Re:Torn Decisions
by NeimandFaerthurin
Summary: AU - Harry Potter supposedly died in a car crash as a child. 7 years later the supposed son of a Death Eater rejoins the wizarding world to try and glean some answers. His attitude is anything but reassuring to staff and students of Hogwarts. He wants to find out who he is and why he can see a boy no one else can. With his own agenda, will he be able to accomplish his goals?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I DO NOT NOR WILL I EVER OWN THE HARRY POTTER FRANCHISE!** That said, if someone tries to sue me you're more than welcome to my dust bunnies as payment. You can't have my rock collection though.

 **AN:** This is actually my story. I forgot my log in address (I actually think I accidently erased it), and have no clue as to the password, so there was no way to log onto my Enkindu account. This was why I actually made this account. Okay, hopefully I have fixed my errors, and am changing it up since I'm a bit older now than when I had started this thing. So hopefully it's better instead of worse LOL. I'm still American though, never been to the U.K. and am bound to make mistakes. If there's anything glaringly obvious about phrases or whatever please let me know :) Also I'm a weirdo and actually use proper old fashioned words in their actual context like queer which means odd or weird and use gay meaning lighthearted or carefree. One last thing, I tend to jump around with the viewpoints but it's always third person never first.

 **Title:** Torn Decisions

 **Story Rating:** T

 **Chapter Rating:** K+

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

 **Prologue**

The child wasn't sure when he became aware that 'Boy' wasn't his actual name. Maybe it was when he realized that he was different, and not just because he looked nothing like the people he lived with. The conclusion that he wasn't like them was the fact he could hear and see a boy no one else could. 'Everyone else' was being the people whom he lived with by the name of Dursley. The Dursleys were the boy's guardians and family from what he'd been told and had come to understand, but would later learn was a gross misnomer if there ever was one. It slowly dawned on the child that everyone his family had another name apart from boy, woman, man, etc. except for him. Even the boy that only he could see had a name. It was around this time he started noticing other discrepancies of the rules concerning him and those that applied to his cousin Dudley.

The first lesson learned at the tender age of just eighteen months old was that crying was not a good thing. He would be left alone until he stopped or unless the adults were frazzled then he was greeted with harsh words and later when a bit older a slap. His uncle had once grabbed him and lifted him none too gently up to eye level and menacingly stated, "If you don't stop that crying, I'll _give_ you something to cry about." That 'something' was usually a switch across the boy's backside. Along with no crying or whining, he was not to ask questions. He was to obey them and never mention anything that could be considered abnormal. They disliked anything that could not be simply explained, so anything unusual was not tolerated. It was right up there with asking questions. Questions were not permitted unless it pertained to a chore, but even those had to be chosen and voiced with care. There was no certainty that the questions would be answered or allowed.

By the time he was four the boy knew the rules by heart and quickly memorized any odd rule that popped up lest he be punished for not recalling it later. It helped that at the beginning his aunt would always ask him what the rules were. Because of said rules, the child was quiet speaking only when being spoken to and answering with, "Ma'am" or "Sir". Since he was unobtrusive and like a shadow, he was allowed out of the house to go with the Dursleys when they needed to go out for shopping or for an outing. It was during these outings that he noticed odd people, or rather people acting oddly. Rather than being a nonentity, he was acknowledged by a nod, a tilt of the hat, one or two even called out to him. At first he'd been offended thinking they'd said hairy and while his hair was rather wild, it didn't warrant insult. Then he'd understood it wasn't _hairy_ but _Harry_. And while on some level he'd understood 'Boy' wasn't a proper name, Harry didn't quite seem right either. What he'd picked up on the most was how these incidents affected his family's behavior and how suddenly there was a need to go home. It was something neither he nor the invisible boy could fathom and they only felt slightly better seeing that Dudley was as clueless as they.

Rubbing his eyes the boy sat up and shivered as the woolen blanket fell off of him letting the warmth escape. Stretching, he debated for a second about curling back up but decided he'd best stay sitting up. It would be too easy to fall back asleep and then he'd be in trouble. Folding up his bed he made sure to set his pillow covered in a case that was made from his old baby blanket atop the pile. When he'd outgrown the quilt, his aunt had made it into a pillow case. It was his most treasured possession and was the only thing he had that linked him to his parents, to a life before the Dursleys. His aunt and uncle had already explained to him how they had found him left on their stoop like one would their milk bottles. When he'd asked if his parents had left him there he was told that he was dumped on the Dursleys because his parents had died in a car crash. That his parents' solicitor hadn't even had the decency to knock on the door, but had left him where he could have froze on their doorstep. He learned nothing else about his parents other than his mother had been Petunia's sister. While he didn't have much about his parents, he at least had the blanket.

The boy's room was the space under the stairs which at first he believed to be just a tiny windowless room. His aunt and uncle shared a room upstairs, there was a guest room for when Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge visited, Dudley's room which he had to himself, and the last was Dudley's playroom that had once been his nursery. The boy got the smallest room located under the stairs because honestly they hadn't expected he was going to be staying long. And his uncle once let it slip that it was the boy's room because he himself had chosen it. According to his aunt on the rare times she spoke about _that_ day (being the day he was found outside), was that he'd been inconsolable after he'd awaken and had crawled into the room under the stairs. He'd only quiet down if he was there, crying bloody murder when his aunt had taken him to Dudley's nursery. Not knowing what else to do, his aunt had converted the cupboard into a room for him.

He didn't mind since the only times he spent great periods in his room was when he was sleeping or when he was being punished. He didn't find that odd either as Dudley had himself received 'time outs' and sent to his own room. Boy's room didn't have a light bulb though, just an empty socket hanging from the ceiling, there had been at one time. After the bulb burned out it was never replaced and that didn't bother the boy either. Light hurt his eyes and caused a bit of a headache when he forgot to shield his eyes. It was never truly dark in his little cupboard though, his aunt and uncle never shut the slot on the door and his door was never truly shut except during his own 'time outs'. While his cupboard was never locked, he did have instructions not to leave it until given permission in the mornings.

Quickly replacing his nightshirt with day clothes, he sat waiting, knowing that Aunt Petunia would be down shortly and allow him out. He shifted, his full bladder begging to be emptied, but he held it in. He was _not_ going to have an accident. The last accident he'd had was when he was three and he wanted to make sure that that was the last one he'd had. As punishment for messing himself, he'd had to sit in the rank messy shorts until bath time. It was not something he wished to repeat.

"You have the bottle," the boy none of his family could see reminded him. They had scrounged the glass bottle from the recycle bin just for this sort of occasion. Thankfully, Dudley's Aunt Marge had visited recently and whenever she did she usually drank copious amounts of Vernon's liquor stash. He knew when she was due for a visit because Uncle Vernon would hide away the 'good stuff' as he called it. The visit this time was thankfully short and the boy was grateful since her departure gave him reprieve from the very unpleasant woman. Her visits always promised uncomfortableness and the family various forms of embarrassment and trouble. Vernon's attempts to find new places to hide his liquor or be deceptive about the amount he had were all for naught. The woman had a nose like a bloodhound when it came to spirits in a bottle.

"I don't want to. Aunt 'Tunia will be down soon." It was routine and almost on the dot every day. The other boy didn't argue, just sat quietly with the only person who could see and hear him, and whom he guessed felt like a brother towards. That was how the boys decided to view themselves and it helped that they noticed similarities to one another. Both had dark hair but not like Uncle Vernon's, pale skin that was natural and not from lack of exposure to sunlight. Both were slim and in the boy's case, nearly scrawny. The invisible boy had eyes the color of green glass while his own weren't as green or as pretty. The invisible boy also decided that they were brothers, and with nothing else to call him, that is what they named him for lack of anything better. Brother also stated he was older which got the boy to snort but then thought about it and decided it made sense. Older brothers were supposed to look out for their younger siblings and that is what Brother did. He looked out after the boy as he was doing now by reminding him that in case of an emergency he had the bottle to pee in. They didn't have to worry about Aunt Petunia finding it either since the boy was the only one to clean up the cupboard. That had been another rule; the boy had to make sure to keep his little space tidy.

Seeing the strained expression on the boy's face, Brother had begun to search in the back of the room where they'd stashed the bottle. He halted when they heard the familiar footfalls of Mrs. Dursley descending the stairs then stop in front of their door. It was all he could do to restrain himself from throwing the door open and rushing to the toilet. He knew better than to run though when his door opened and his aunt continued to the kitchen while he walked as quickly as he dared. By the time he got to the loo he felt as if his bladder was going to burst and it was both painful and a relief to finally let go. By the time he entered the kitchen his aunt had gotten the plates down and set them on the table along with the silverware. She'd just put the kettle on when they heard the Dursley males start to stir and he saw Petunia glance at him as he went to the cupboard under the sink to pull out his collapsible stool. Pushing it over to the counter he climbed on it and began to put bread in the toaster. Catching her watching him, he smiled unfazed when she turned away without acknowledging or returning the gesture.

Petunia couldn't ever outwardly show any kind of affection for fear of upsetting the family dynamic. However it did feel good to have someone to share her day with, even if that someone was a child. She and Vernon had decided that they wouldn't put their Dudders in nursery at first so they kept him home until he was four and it was time to let him start to learn how to socialize. It was only a couple days a week at first but she'd still been at a loss yet equally relieved to have one less child to warrant constant attention. She hadn't had a day without her son since the day he was born. For four years she hadn't had anyone to help or assist her as she took on motherhood caring first for her own son, then her sister's eighteen months later. Having cut ties with her family and Vernon's parents being dead, the only one left was Marge Dursley; someone that no one in their right mind sought child rearing advice from. Nor was she one to seek solace and sympathy from. After conversations with that woman one always came away more worn than when they had before they saw her.

Going about her routine day after day Petunia had at first been annoyed by her nephew constantly shadowing her seeming as lost as she was without Dudley. The boy followed her like a puppy, one thumb in his mouth, his other hand occupied by clenching onto an old patchwork teddy missing an ear, dragging it along in his wake. The used teddy had once belonged to Dudley until one of Marge's dogs had torn the ear off. Petunia hadn't been aware let alone be able to acknowledge when the annoyance had given way to acceptance of the intrusion in her life. Then came the realization that she no longer resented the boy, but that she actually cared despite her efforts not to. It touched her that the boy would follow her, want to help, and dare she think it, spend time with her. Dudley never did, wanting to watch telly, go to play dates with boys he met at nursery then primary school, or get Vernon to pay attention to him. Since the boy followed her, she began to teach him the chores he would later take on. It hadn't been intentional; Petunia had just decided to accept her nephew's help who began to fold laundry with her without provocation. Teaching him chores gave her an excuse to spend time with the boy as neither liked to be alone not knowing what to do with themselves. It was also gratifying that at least _one_ person knew what she did and had to go through day after day without any thanks or appreciation from either husband or son. If Vernon questioned her about the boy's involvement, she told him it was time he earned his keep. Her husband liked that idea and left her alone with the boy as she knew he would.

When _those_ people had dumped him on their step it hadn't included any stipend or promise of any funds to care for the boy. Vernon had to rebudget his check every month to include the extra mouth to feed, body to clothe, and school expenses. That was why they only had Dudley going to nursery and kept Harry home until it was absolutely necessary for him to attend primary. They both had grudgingly admitted that Dudley needed the early schooling more than their nephew. It wasn't as if the boy's education was lacking, since Harry was getting the same basic learning at home being taught the difference in colors (Petunia never washed the whites, darks, and colors together). He learned his colors, shapes, and counting the same as Dudley just in a different venue.

Petunia remembered how the boy had grinned proudly chest swelled when she'd lifted him onto the washer, explained how to operate it, and he'd done it correctly the first time. He'd listened and watched carefully, correctly added the right amount of detergent and set the machine. After that came sweeping (he held the pan), weeding, planting, and general gardening. As they toiled in the dirt she would talk to him about when it was the right season for what plant, the actual amount he should water the plants, how plants had meaning from flowers to herbs, and to be careful about what flowers he gave to a girl. Ever since she was a girl Petunia had been taken with botany and endured numerous quips about her hobby and her given name. The boy didn't say anything, letting her talk and she enjoyed that he avidly listened to everything she said and could see he was storing the information away rather than letting it go through one ear and out the other. Having someone who wasn't judging her or only pretending to take interest but was ready to talk behind her back and gossip to the neighbors was refreshing. The boy learned general house chore such as setting the table, dusting, emptying the bins, and Petunia had just began to teach him how to cook. He was always supervised and of course he was only able to try his hand at simple things. Harry had perked up when she once slipped and told him he'd be her prep cook for a dinner party Vernon planned for work. Petunia was the one to scrub the kitchen, tub, sinks, and toilet, everything that needed any cleaning chemicals. The boy would sit in the hall and would watch and listen while Petunia talked or would answer if she asked him to recite things back to her. He was only allowed to help scrub the floors. Vacuuming was too heavy for him still and while she did he was usually emptying the bins and stripping the beds.

Appreciating his help, Petunia gave into a rare urge and mussed the boy's black mop of hair in an affectionate gesture. The boy's eyes widened at the touch, only used to being touched by Dudley when they played or had to walk somewhere. He never received hugs or kisses or anything like that from his aunt and uncle, only a hand on his shoulder to nudge him along. The other times his aunt had touched him was to set him atop the washer that one time, or when he was being shown hot to hold the dust pan, or such. Vernon never touched him at all except when he earned himself a spanking or a cuff about the ear. Eyes shining happily he beamed at Petunia who wanted to return the smile but was already feeling guilty and berating herself for her brief lapse in judgment. She turned her back to him as the kettle let it be known it was done, but she could tell he was pleased. Pouring the scalding water into the tea pot over the blended leaves in the tea ball, she became lost in her thoughts about the day before her nephew showed up and the day he did wrapped in a quilt with a fresh gash on his forehead and a note. How on the first of November she and Vernon noted the strange happenings rightly guessing it had to deal with _those_ people. Then the next day believing everything would go back to normal, she'd gone to set out the milk bottles to find Harry swaddled and left without a by your leave!

She hadn't wanted to take him in, but she couldn't leave him on the stoop, not knowing how long he'd already been out there. It had been a miracle her scream hadn't woken him, but for all she knew the boy could have been magicked that way. She and Vernon had read the note and both had fumed at that Dumbledore's nerve. He locked them into caring for the boy knowingly or not. They couldn't hand him over to an orphanage despite that was their desire to do so. They were afraid of the consequences and not only for themselves but for Harry as well. At that moment he'd been just an innocent baby although a queer one no doubt. The letter guised as a request of refuge for Harry was actually a command and warning. The Dursley might not have been the smartest people but they weren't stupid and could read between the lines which was part of the reason they were angry with Dumbledore for just deciding things without even speaking to them!

One of the main fears for taking Harry was what if he was a freak like his parents? Petunia disliked magic bordering on hatred. She hadn't always felt that way though. It had begun as jealousy and hurt towards her sister Lily. Lily could do things that Petunia could only imagine about. It hadn't been fair! She and Lily were sisters and more than that, best friends! It hadn't mattered that Lily was their parents' favorite child, as Petunia had been Lily's favorite person. Then her gift began to divide them. That small crack which seemed barely there grew bigger when that nasty Snape boy came along and poisoned her sister against her driving a wedge into that crack widening it. Lily didn't care that she would be starting an adventure by going off to a different school to learn magic while Petunia would return to their old school alone and the rumors of why Lily wasn't there. A school where rumors abound and Petunia kept being compared to Lily all the while coming up lacking. There was always the inevitable 'why wasn't Petunia as brilliant as Lily?', 'Lily got into a prestigious school',' Sorry you didn't qualify, Petunia'.

When Lily wrote home she never asked how Petunia was doing or asked if she was lonely now that her sister and best friend was gone. Never asked what was going on in her sister's life, if their parents were taking the chance to spoil her since Lily wasn't there. The only thing that Lily wrote about was her new school and how much she loved it there. She wrote about how much fun she was having, that every day was a brand new adventure, and all the friends she met. There were loads about the castle and classes and things that the other kids did and how different some things were but others were the same. She told their parents the different things she could do now and how she was top of her class. By the time she came home from school for the holidays there was a large gulf that neither could cross. That chasm only deepened and got wider with each passing year. Petunia hated that distance and resented and blamed her sister for it even though she had no idea how to stop it. The dislike festered and grew until hatred began to creep up when Lily brought some of her new friends home. Potter and his sidekicks seemed to have targeted Petunia for their so called pranks. When those beastly freaks found out about her boyfriends they frightened them off and found the whole ordeal hilarious. Petunia had no and tried to talk to lily but her sister hadn't found any harm in it trying to say that Petunia's boyfriend really wasn't suited for her. Vernon thankfully hadn't had to meat Lily's 'friends' but almost hadn't married her until she promised to sever ties with her family, which at the time she was more than too happy to do. There was no love lost on Petunia's part and neither she nor Lily wrote to each other or kept in contact. Although her parents wrote, Petunia never wrote back. So while she was kept abreast of everything going on with her parents and her sister's life whether or not she wanted to, they didn't know anything about Petunia to relate back to Lily. Neither did she acknowledge the fact that she wasn't an only child. To Petunia they were as good as dead.

Then Lily was dead and her baby son was on Petunia's doorstep without Petunia being able to work through anything she might have felt about her sister's death. Oh there was anger, and bitterness, but really she was kept too busy to actually process it having to deal with her sister's baby and Dumbledore's note and all that it implied. After fighting her fears she had grudgingly taken the boy. Her fear hadn't disappeared however. She had and still was filled with 'What if's. What if he was a freak and used his power on them? She well remembered Lily's bouts of magic that she couldn't control. What if her nephew had one of those bouts and accidentally or purposely hurt her Dudders? That nasty Snape boy had hurt Petunia with magic and that was something she never forgot, that magic could hurt as well as do wonderful things.

When the boy had woken and she had seen his eyes for the first time, it was like a confirmation that he was indeed a freak. The boy's eyes were an unnatural chartreuse color and depending on his moods shifted between more green or gold. With trepidation she had waited for him to do something abnormal, but as of yet he hadn't. He appeared as normal as her Dudders who got along with Harry strangely enough after they'd seemed to work things out as toddlers do. Dudley would come home from nursery and show the boy what he'd done that day. Then they would play together until Petunia called them for supper. Now that they were both in the first year of primary school they would do their homework together. Vernon and Petunia had agreed that if the boy passed his eleventh birthday without any peculiar incidents happening and didn't receive a letter, it would prove he was as normal as them. If that happened then they would adopt the boy and he would really become a member of their family. They would also show him the letter and explain to him why they treated him as they had to keep him from becoming a freak.

Secretly Petunia was glad the boy hadn't shown any oddness except for his ability to read body language. He picked up on her unspoken cues and never smiled or mentioned anything around Vernon. It wasn't until her husband was off to work that he would relax, smile, or sometimes hum to himself. Dudley, thank goodness, had somehow picked up on it as well and never mentioned the change around his father. Today was no different. As soon as they heard Vernon, the boy's smile disappeared, his head hung down, his bangs shielding his eyes. Carefully, he cracked eggs into the frying pan and set the shells in the water jug that would be used to water the plants. Petunia then placed it on the burner while Harry took the stack of toast and placed it on the table along with the butter, marmalade, jam, and juice.

"Why don't you go fetch, Dudley?" she suggested busy with the frying pan. Nodding, the boy set his stool back in the cupboard then went upstairs. Shortly she heard a shout from Dudley, a laugh from the boy, and a thump. When the two boys came down she saw the boy struggling to keep the smile off his face. Dudley was pouting and threw looks at the boy that clearly said, 'I'll get you.'

As the boy sad down Vernon came in already reading his paper and once everyone was seated, Petunia served him then the children their breakfasts. Though Harry had the least amount of food, he finished about the same time as Dudley. Seeing his empty plate Petunia asked him if he wanted seconds. Out of the corner of her eyes she caught the boy puff out his cheeks and stomach making round motions over his stomach. Looking at Dudley, he nodded his head at Vernon. Dudley stuck his tongue out at him and the boy grinned before quickly returning to his submissive behavior when Vernon looked up from his paper having not heard a response from his son. Petunia pretended she hadn't seen the boys' actions.

"No, thank you." Dudley had been learning manners at school and having to practice them. "I'm full."

Vernon frowned concerned that his son hadn't been eating as much as he used to. "You feeling sick, boy?"

"Nuh-uh." Dudley shook his blond head. "Not hungry." This was true. He learned that if he didn't eat until his stomach hurt than he would be so sleepy all the time.

"All right, sweetums. Go get ready for school."

At the reminder that they wouldn't see each other until he came home from school, Dudley saw his cousin's eyes dim a bit. Sliding out of his seat, Dudley ran upstairs to get his backpack. Going to his dresser he opened a drawer and pulled out what he wanted and put it in his pocket. Returning downstairs he kissed his father goodbye and walked with his mother and cousin to the bus stop after reassuring her that yes he had his P.E. kit with him. Before the bus or anyone else came to the stop, Dudley turned to his cousin and shyly (which was a rare thing) stated, "I got somethin' for you."

At that the boy 's head snapped to look at Dudley's face from where he'd currently been looking at the ground. Because his eyes were sensitive to light, the boy wore a pair of sunglasses but both the Dursleys could clearly see the surprise on his face. Dudley smiled at that and pulled the item he'd taken from his dresser from his pocket. Suddenly he was a little unsure of himself but handed it to his dark haired cousin anyway. Taking the gift, the boy gasped as he looked down at it. It was a handmade leather and bead bracelet. The tiny beads stitched to the leather formed a feather. Dudley held up his own wrist which bore a similar bracelet but instead of a feather there was a diamond snake pattern. "Mummy got the kit for me with my money and helped. D'ya like it?"

The boy lunged and hugged the blond who was happy his cousin liked his gift. It was the only other thing he'd given him besides the used teddy. Dudley hadn't even wanted the teddy and had planned on giving it to Harry who seemed to like it, but that stupid dog of his Aunt Marge's had gotten a hold of it. His cousin then hugged Petunia and shyly asked if she'd help him put it on. Dudley beamed as his mum helped out his cousin. "These show we're bestest friends."

It was also their private secret. They had discovered that Dudley was like him. He could do magic. They found this out when Dudley was up on a counter to get into the cupboards trying to locate something for a snack. He'd been startled when the front door shut. Dudley who'd been balancing precariously on a chair corner and a bit of the counter, had lost his footing. When he fell, he didn't hit the floor. It was like a cushion of air kept him from cracking his head on the floor. When Petunia had walked into the kitchen both boys were frozen staring at each other. She had given them a funny look when asked what they were doing they'd quickly replied nothing and ran out of the room. Later they had talked about it. Then there was the time at school where an older boy during recess as looking for his snake he'd brought for show and tell. Harry and Dudley had found it and the latter had stared dumbly while his cousin _spoke_ to the snake. They both swore not to mention that incident.

As the bus pulled up, the boy gave his cousin another hug then stepped back for him to board the bus then waved until the bus disappeared. Walking back home, the boy kept fingering the bracelet, a smile on his lips, happy despite not being able to go to school today. It was actually the school's fault that he'd not be going to school. They were concerned about his eyes and had 'suggested' that Aunt Petunia take him to an optometrist. He didn't want to go to the eye doctor and have them flash a light in his eyes nearly blinding him. From the reaction Aunt Petunia had when she'd received the note about it didn't want to take him either. She'd grumbled about people sticking their unwanted noses in other people's business. At least the bright side was that he got his aunt all to himself for the day. Uncle Vernon was going to pick them up from the eye doctor during his lunch break but they had to take public transit to get to the appointment. Petunia had to remind the boy to take his hat and he had nodded and grabbed it stuffing, it on his head so the weirdo people wouldn't recognize him so easily.

He rather enjoyed the train since it meant he got to so many different kind of people. Brother liked to watch the people as well and they would try and guess where the people were going. When it was their turn to get off he kept a hold of his aunt's hand as they made their way to the eye doctor. Once there it was a short wait and it didn't take that long for them to check and see that he had problems with the lights and being nearly blinded he'd had to be led by his aunt on the way home. They did however realize that he might need glasses for reading when he got a little bit older. In the mean time, he was free of having to wear any eyewear except his sunglasses which had been picked up at Tesco's. They were just plastic and nothing fancy, but the boy liked them and that they wrapped around the sides of his eyes to block the sunlight from that direction helped.

Vernon was waiting a little impatiently for them when they exited and drove them to the grocers after discussing what was said in the optometrist. The boy tuned out his uncle's grumblings about the boy needing glasses since glasses were not cheap. Even with getting guardianship and government money, they had learned to budget thanking the fact that the boy didn't seem to need a doctor very often. In fact the boy had only been to the doctor twice in his life. Once was when they'd first gotten him to be sure that all that was wrong with him was the cut on his forehead and the other time was for his school entry into primary.

Vernon let his wife know he had a late meeting that was very important and would decide if he got that promotion he'd been trying for. Letting Vernon know that they'd be fine without him waiting, Petunia led the boy into the store to get their groceries. After a quick stop to use the toilet, Petunia picked him up and put him in the cart where he sat cross-legged in the storage part, back nestled against the folded up seat. Neither he nor his aunt liked putting him in the front seating compartment.

"What do we need?" She asked him. The boy's memory and recall were excellent which was why she would have him go over the shopping list to make sure she didn't miss anything.

"Shampoo, toilet tissue, dish soap, and coffee," the boy replied mentally going over the list his aunt had told him. Nodding, Petunia headed for the coffee. They were almost done shopping when Petunia decided to buy the boys some treats and asked her nephew for his input. They knew that Dudley would like the Frazzles crisps while the boy liked Jelly Babies. Once they had gotten those as well as a few other assortments, they headed for the check out. Busy going through her purse, Petunia hadn't noticed at first that the boy had put his thumb in his mouth. It had been a habit that Vernon and Petunia was sure they had broken him of, but still did it whenever he was anxious. Looking around to try and find the source of his agitation. The boy hated to be stared at and that's exactly what the batty old cat-woman from down the street was doing. She was smiling at him like all the other weirdos did.

"Hello, Harry. Are you enjoying shopping with your aunt?"

Petunia stiffened and the boy edged closer to the cart to get away from the woman. She and Vernon had thought about dumping the boy off at her house before when they had to go places, but since the boy had never been a bother they had yet to employ her services. The boy stood and held his arms out from Petunia who pulled him out of the cart and set him down beside her. His thumb immediately went back into his mouth, free hand clutched her skirt, his small body pressed against her legs to hide him from view. He was five but still rather short making it seem like he was younger which he capitalized on at times like now. He peeked around his aunt's legs but seeing the strange woman still smiling at him, ducked back and looked away when she'd stated, "Don't you look cute in your sunglasses."

Arabella Figg had watched curiously and with some concern at first when Petunia had him outside showing him how to do yard work. But as she'd watched she noticed that he was never by himself or doing more than he could do. Harry had always had a contented smile on his face as he and his aunt worked in the yard. The woman and her nephew interacted comfortable with each other and Petunia obviously had warmth and concern for Harry. From what Arabella could see and had seen it seemed Dumbledore had been right deciding to place Harry with his mother's family.

"He doesn't like strangers." Petunia told her stiffly wondering how the woman even knew the boy's name. Both he and Brother wondered the same thing confused with how the weirdos seemed to always know him or at least try and act friendly or familiar with him. Petunia quickly paid for their purchases and walked out to avoid any more exchanges that might prove uncomfortable later on. One hand occupied with the groceries bag, the other took hold of her nephew's hand and pulled him along causing him to have to jog every other step to keep up with her agitated pace. It wasn't until they were home that she relaxed. They ate a brief light snack while they waiting for Dudley to be home. When he did he was excited because his class had a test on their reading. Dudley proudly told his mother and cousin that he scored higher than his classmates. It was due to he and his cousin's competing to see who could read bigger words that had pushed them to excel past their year mates.

To celebrate they were going to go out on the town when Vernon returned home. The four piled into the car with Mr. Dursley warning his nephew not to mess up the interior of the car. It was a warning he got whenever they went anywhere because of the one time he'd accidentally spilled his drink which had been more Dudley's fault but neither boy said anything about that. The four went out to eat, saw a movie at the cinema, and where heading home each boy licking an 99 flake when it happened. A car going the opposite direction crossed over the division and Vernon had to try and swerve their own car but they still collided. Other cars ended up crashing into them causing a massive pile up. All the boy heard before everything went blank was his aunt's panicked shout, the scream of tires and crunch of metal.


	2. Chapter 1

**Title:** Torn Decisions

 **Story Rating:** T

 **Chapter Rating:** K+

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

 **Chapter One**

Life liked to keep people on their toes. This was the conclusion that one Dudley Dursley came to believe by the time he was eleven years old. In his short life his whole world had been upended no less than three times. The first had been before he was even out of nappies when he was about eighteen months old. His cousin had come to live with them when he'd become an orphan, and he'd had to learn how to get along and share his parents for the first time in his life. Because of being that young, those memories were hazy and he couldn't really recall them anymore. The second time despite blank spots and fuzzy memories was absolutely seared into his brain. It had been the day that his father had died and everything had changed. When he started seeing a therapist they'd told him that it was natural for his mind to blur certain things, blocking or suppressing memories in order to mend. That was why he couldn't exactly recall the crash but had impressions of when he was at hospital. What he hadn't understood was why his bloody mind decided to take those and leave the memories of his Aunt Marge and her nasty dogs. The only answer he ever got was that it wasn't nearly as traumatizing as the accident. The car crash had been a sudden and violent event whereas his time with Marge was over a longer period of progression so his mind had time to acclimate to them. Dudley just hoped that as he got older there might be a way to suppress his time with his aunt as well.

After his father had died he'd briefly been given into the custody of his Aunt Marge since she was his only relative. Petunia Dursley had sustained more damage than Dudley and had a longer hospital stay. Marge Dursley had come to the Dursley home to sit it and her nephew while her poor sister-in-law was laid up. In truth she was anything but comforting not having a maternal instinct or bone in her body nor was there a sympathetic one. She was not the person to help Dudley go through the stages of grief and loss. To him, it hadn't looked like she had grieved for his father either when he looked back on it. The primary school therapist was the one that had started him on his sessions and then added anger management when it was clear he was starting to have anger issues cropping up.

Marge's attitude from 'doting' aunt who spoiled her nephew changed when it became clear that the money had run out and that Dudley was like his 'freaky' cousin's family. While she'd been staying at their home she'd found and drunk all of Vernon's stash of liquor. When sloshed even when not she would go on about Harry and the first time that Dudley back talked her in defense of his deceased cousin, she had actually hit him shocking him quite badly. He panicked when she stepped towards him again with that ugly angry face and somehow he'd _pushed_ her without actually touching her! It had been like that time when he'd floated down from the counter. After that, Marge was nasty around him too and started in on his mum saying things about breeding and the like that went over Dudley's head. She'd quickly scarpered off making it quite clear she wanted nothing more to do with him or Petunia Dursley when it came to light that there was no more money. Vernon Dursley had been ill prepared for an early death and had not considered what effect it would have on his family. The funeral arrangements and the hospital bills ate up what little money they had. The house had to be sold and the family of two ended up moving from a middle class suburb to estates. Petunia had packed them up from Surrey and moved them away from everything and everyone they knew. She had thought about moving them back to her parents' hometown of Hyde. The whole reason they'd moved from there to Cokeworth was because of the murder of her cousin Edward Evans. In the end Petunia moved them to some estates that she could afford in the Manchester area working two jobs. Dudley didn't end up seeing much of his mum as she was working and he was either at school or with his friends. He supposed he didn't notice the vast change in his mother because of this coupled with his age or it was as his therapist had stated a coping mechanism. Dudley adapted to his new environment and his completely changed mother. She was always tired and had little if any time or patience for him thought to give her credit she did try at first. He tried to help her as best as he could and as he got older he took over more of the chores around the home and errands that needed doing such as shopping.

Things seemed to settle down although occasionally odd things happened which Dudley tried to hide from his mother. Of course it had to be when he'd settled into a nice rhythm that his world was shaken off its foundations again. It happened during the summer he turned eleven. The day before his mother and he had figured out where he would go for secondary school since going to his father's alma mater was out as was some of the nicer more public schools. He'd been hesitate because he knew how much his mother scrimped and saved just to get him nice things every once in awhile like his bicycle. Petunia had wanted her son to go to a good school and was able to find one that wouldn't be too bad and was affordable. They had plans to go out later that day to pick up his uniform and perhaps buy him a new knapsack as his old one was a bit on the raggedy side. "Perhaps one of them bags with a real leather bottom to keep it from getting worn out, yeah?" His mother had smiled at him as she said that and Dudley felt hope as well as guilt that they'd be able to get one.

The knock came when Dudley was eating his cereal in the kitchen trying to be quiet so his mother could sleep awhile longer yet. Not expecting visitors, he'd gotten up and answered the door to a strange looking old man. The clothes he was wearing didn't seem to suit him and knowing he didn't live around here and wasn't the caretaker blurted out, "Who are you?" unsure if he should let the man in or not.

The man didn't seem to take offense just looked at Dudley with a benign smile and asked if his mother was home. Dudley told him he'd rather not wake her thank you and he could come back later? It seemed that he couldn't and said he would wait, so Dudley again hesitated before letting the old man in. He didn't _seem_ that dangerous even if he did seem to be rudely glancing about the flat taking everything in. The man told him his name was Albus Dumbledore and was a headmaster at a secondary school in Scotland that was interested in him. Dudley had been skeptical but excited as well wondering how they had heard of him. Maybe it was a scholarship? He knew there were scholarships and such, it was one reason he'd planned on taking up sport so he'd have a chance at attending university maybe. A scholarship would make it a lot easier on his mum and he was honest enough with himself to know that he likely wouldn't be able to get a scholastic scholarship nor a musical one. When he broached the subject of fees, the old man had smiled and informed him that the school had a fund for students like Dudley who wouldn't be able to afford the tuition on their own. It sounded too good to be true so he had to ask because he was very curious and really wanted to know, "Why me? Bet there are lots smarter kids on the estate. Why pick me, eh?"

While knowing there were people smarter and more deserving of such a chance, Dudley knew that his friend Toby would have called him an idiot if he were there. If it'd been Toby or any of his other mates they wouldn't ask twice or hesitate at all to grab at the chance with both hands. What made Dudley so special though to be warrant the headmaster himself to come out here just to invite him to his school? His grades while good were nothing spectacular to draw attention. The only thing he knew of that made him different was what had made his cousin different and if that was the case, then maybe they shouldn't want him. And the look that crossed the man's face was one that he didn't understand. Dumbledore was obviously curious about him too. The man withdrew an envelope from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and had just handed it over to Dudley when his mother entered the kitchen and froze seeing Albus Dumbledore at her kitchen table with her son who _had an envelope in his hand_! Dudley watched in mute fascinated horror as his mother seemed to transform before his very eyes even as Dumbledore started saying, "Ah, Petunia-"

"NO!" She angrily shrieked raising a finger to point at the man. Dudley flinched at the sound never having seen his mother like this before. She was no longer a worn out tired estate mum, but a vengeful harpy come to rip you to shreds. "No! I'll not have it! I won't!" Petunia's eyes blazed with hatred and rage. "Get out!" she hissed.

"Mum," he tried at the same time as Dumbledore tried again with, "Petunia-"

"I said, 'GET OUT!' I'll not have it, I forbid it! I won't let you ruin his life too!"

'What?' Dudley wondered as his mother hadn't moved and neither had Dumbledore who was gazing at his mum with something akin to pity. Did they know each other? Glancing back and forth between them unsure what to do but afraid to move or say anything, he was taken aback when the man's soft voice stated with certainty, "He's a wizard, Petunia."

Dudley's world completely tilted off its axis at that point even though he was a bit relieved to find out what he could do was really magic. At first he thought maybe it was some sort of esp thing but he'd never been able to bend spoons or guess the lotto. His wide eyes went back and forth as the two adults argued. How his mother kept denying that he was a wizard and the old man insisting that he was one. His mum had then asked bitingly and with some betrayal if it had been _him_ , meaning Harry, who had done this to Dudley. Dumbledore had told her that Dudley had been born a wizard and there wasn't any way that Harry could have given Dudley magic. His mother seemed defeated at that and sat heavily in the other chair at the table although she still glared at the old man. There was vitriol dripping from her words as she demanded, "What good is magic? It doesn't save you from getting blown up, does it? Doesn't save you from being killed in a car crash." She laughed bitterly then. "What good were your precious wards then?"

Dudley was more confused than ever and was surprised to see the headmaster seemed genuinely sorry as he tried to apologize about Vernon. His mother exploded then yelling things like "Don't you dare!" and the like. He tried to follow the conversation but just became more confused until he caught the bit about his cousin and asked, "Someone was trying to kill, Harry?"

Dumbledore sighed at the meeting not going how he had expected or how he would have liked it to go. Six years ago the instruments he'd grounded to the wards of the Dursley home had gone off alerting him that something was wrong with young Harry's family. Imagine much to his surprise when he had apparated to the house it was unoccupied and learned that there had been a muggle traffic accident. An accident that had required a few Aurors making discreet inquiries and finding out someone had Apparated from the scene of the wreckage. When finding out the victims of the pile up, the Dursleys being among those injured, it was learned that Vernon Dursley had died instantly, Petunia Dursley had suffered a fractured skull, some interior bruising, and a broken leg. She'd gone into a coma for a few days while Dudley had amazingly come away with superficial scratches from when the windows shattered. There had been no sign of Harry Potter anywhere. Both Petunia and Dudley believed Harry to be one of the unidentifiable bodies. Yet the instruments at the Headmaster's office hadn't stilled or indicated in any way that the wards had fallen. If they were still intact, that meant that the boy was still alive and called the place home. That had been the case up until the two remaining Dursleys had moved and the wards had ceased to function. After that there wasn't any way to prove if Harry was still alive or if he had died. Dumbledore was strongly hoping for the former.

What he had not expected was for his Deputy Headmistress, Transfiguration Professor, and Head of Gryffindor House to hand him the list that contained that year's incoming students and see the name Dudley Dursley on it. When McGonagall had asked him about who would be sent to talk to the boy's family, Dumbledore had surprised her by stating he would go himself. He wanted to talk with the woman and he was quite curious how Dudley would have turned out. Having gotten two and half years worth of reports about how Harry and Petunia interacted, he'd been pleased and hoped that the woman had gotten over her biased view of magic. Apparently from her outburst when she saw him that was not the case.

Letting out another sigh, Dumbledore explained to Dudley about Harry. If the boy was going to be entering the wizarding world, he would soon enough learn about his cousin. The blond listened as he was told history of a world he didn't know about and would be stepping into soon and that his cousin had been born into. About the rise of Lord Voldemort, about how the uncle and aunt he'd never get to meet had gone into hiding and died resisting the attempt at a new darker regime. How somehow his cousin had defeated the dark wizard at just fifteen months old. To protect Harry he was given into Petunia's care (his mother had snorted at that comment), the only blood relative that could be trusted with him.

"Wait, so he has other family?" Dudley wondered. Well, he had to have done hadn't he? It wasn't like his Uncle James just sprouted into being. He had to have had a mum and dad or even siblings.

"In a manner of speaking," Dumbledore had replied. It was explained about how all pureblood wizards were related in some way and that Harry was related to a few families through his father's side by both marriage as well as blood. Because of politics it wasn't a good idea to have given him into the custody of any of them since those that were closest by blood were working for the wizard that had killed Harry's parents. Then of course the one cousin that Dumbledore would have liked to have given the child to would have been petitioned by the sister and since her family was better off, it was likely Harry would have fallen into the wrong hands. Petunia was chosen because she was the closest blood relative and that while growing up in the Muggle world it would both protect Harry since it was the last place a wizard would look for him, and to keep him from his fame. Naturally Dudley got a crash course on the wizarding terms and political caste while his mother kept her angry gaze on the old man seeming to already know some of what was being told and it being news to her about others.

When everything was said, Dudley looked down at the envelope in his hands and then looked to his mother who looked torn. She looked at the headmaster with finality, "He'll not be going!"

"You'll be sending him to Durmstrange Institute or Beauxbatons Academy then?" Dumbledore full well knew that that wasn't what she had meant and her expression clearly stated that as well. That of course had Dudley asking what those were and learning about other wizarding schools. How some people in England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales opted to send their children to a different school then the one they were invited to. When it seemed that the woman wouldn't budge on the subject even after learning that it would be dangerous for her son _not_ to be trained, it was actually Dudley himself that had convinced his mother it would be for the best. Dumbledore did not correct the boy about how students were not allowed to use magic outside of school when Dudley told his mother that if he learned how to do cleaning spells and the like how much quicker it would make doing the work around the flat. He cajoled his mother and got her to grudgingly agree to allow him to go. That's how they decided to view it despite her muttered, "Fine, go and get yourself blown up as well!" as she left the kitchen and went back to her room.

It was agreed that Dudley would accompany another professor to Diagon Alley to collect his school supplies. Dumbledore had come a bit early to speak with Petunia and Dudley Dursley so if they could come to an accord, the boy could join the others for the initiation into the wizarding world. Minerva was already in Diagon with the group small group of muggleborns and the parents. Would Petunia like to accompany Dudley? The woman looked torn, as if she did yet did not want to go. Longing yet loathing struggled for dominance on her face. In the end Dudley gave a sad smile and suggested he go by himself, that he was old enough to be responsible and that why didn't his mum use her day off to relax without him about? In the end, that was what was agreed and so Dudley got his first taste of side-along apparition. Green to the gills, he gave a queasy smile to the headmaster whose eyes twinkled at him gaily. Getting a good look around he gaped at the market that looked as if it came out of a fairy tale story or the dark ages history. He was led to a small group that was coming out of a very large white lopsided building. There were four boys amongst the adults with the woman that screamed WITCH! You would know what she was right away, even though she didn't have green skin or hairy warts. Dumbledore left him with her saying her name was Professor McGonagall and that she would be showing him around the alley. Before he left, Dumbledore handed over a pouch full of coins. One of the other boys who introduced himself as Dean Thomas went over the coins with him since he missed the little tutorial. According to him the girls had the grand tour yesterday and today it was the boys.

Everything was wonderful! He tried to listen to what Professor McGonagall was telling them as they visited each store they had collect some of their supplies from but it was a bit hard to stay focused. It was there that he learned what Dumbledore had meant about his cousin being famous. He heard people talking and speculating about if they'd see Harry Potter for his first year at Hogwarts. Whenever he heard these and McGonagall was aware of it, she would steer him away and give him a strained sympathetic smile. At the bookstore he'd run into a girl who apparently had been on the tour yesterday but had wanted to come back for more books. She stated that she had wanted to learn about the history some more so had come back with some of her pocket money after of course exchanging it at the bank. She had of course also wanted to learn about Harry Potter and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, since that was all anyone could seem to talk about. Hearing his cousin lauded as The-Boy-Who-Lived caused something to twist in his stomach and rendered him unable to speak.

The thing he was looking forward to as were the other boys and anyone would after hearing that they were magicians in the making, was a wand. Of course, Dudley was also naturally nervous as well. Dean volunteered to be the first one to get his wand and the boys found it great fun that Ollivander didn't seem to mind that things were broken or boxes of wands sent akimbo when they tried out the wands to find a fit. It seemed his store was magicked so that everything went back to the way it was before it was the next boy's turn. When it was Dudley's turn he gave a nervous small but since all the other boys had gotten their wands, surely he'd be matched to one as well? When he picked up the first one he looked questioningly at the old man behind the counter and gave it an experimental wave but had it snatched out of his hand before he could complete it. Quite aware of everyone's eyes on him, especially Professor McGonagall's, Dudley felt his face heat up as he tried a few other wands with no luck until he felt the warmth in his hand and something telling him that _this_ was _his_ wand. It was made of rowan with a unicorn hair core. Dudley felt himself smile and it didn't leave his face for the rest of his trip through the alley. The professor saw off all the students and then helped Dudley get home with his packages. He thanked the professor and wanted to share what had happened with his mother telling her everything, but she wasn't home yet.

The summer progressed and Dudley who'd tried to share with his mother what had happened only for her to be slightly standoffish with him, couldn't wait for it to end. When September the first rolled around, he'd made his way to King's Cross _with_ his mother thankfully who still seemed unsure how to act around him. She saw him off and that was when his adventure into the unknown really began. Along the way on the train he met up with the boys he'd met in Diagon as well as a few others. A boy who kept losing his toad shared what he knew as well as his fears. They were friends by the time they reached the castle and ended up going separate ways. Dean ended up in Gryffindor with Neville while Justin and he were sorted into Hufflepuff. The first thing out of Justin's mouth when they went through the common room door after looking around had been, "I feel a bit like a Hobbit." You could tell who was a muggle born and knew fantasy by their reactions to that.

His year progressed quickly with some adventure thrown in. He and Justin and a few other boys would take to exploring the magic castle when they could. Halloween a troll had gotten in and Dudley had the misfortune to meet it. He'd only really gone looking for Hermione because of the prat Ron Weasley making him come with him and Neville to the girl's loo to apologize to Hermione causing them to miss the announcement about the troll. Then he heard about Hagrid keeping a baby dragon until it set part of his hut on fire. After that there were just the normal adventures you got when being misled by mischievous red headed twins, dodging Peeves, and trying not to draw attention in Potions since the professor was very strict. According to Dean he was a nightmare in the Gryffindor/Slytherin classes. As for the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw ones, he didn't seem to take as many points.

Professor Severus Snape made Dudley nervous and it wasn't just because he was Professor McGonagall strict while in Potions. The first night during his Sorting the man had stared at him as if he could burn a hole through him. The look on his face was very queer at first but then turned to a lip curl of derision. He'd caught the man staring at him during their first potions class as well. After speaking with Neville he guessed that maybe he chose one person from every class to intimidate and Dudley happened to be it for the Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw block. By the time of the end of term had come and winter holidays had come, Dudley had gone home and found a lack luster greeting. It wasn't all bad, his mum just had to get used to knowing his secret and knowing that he wouldn't do anything to hurt her. She at least listened to him when he told her about his classes and then when she heard about Professor Snape she had given a scowl to rival the professor's. That was when he learned about how as a child Professor Snape had hurt his mum by making a tree branch fall on her head. Dudley was upset of course, but he knew kids did stupid things but didn't tell his mother that. At least he knew why the man had been watching him, he'd known his mother and was probably surprised to see him at Hogwarts.

After spending the holiday with his mother he felt a little better going back to school knowing that she wasn't completely against him learning and that she confided in him a bit of why she hadn't wanted him to go. The rest of the year flew by full of class work, home work, going to quidditch games and cheering until his throat was raw for Hufflepuff, and almost towards the end of the year before their exams, Professor Quirrell had done a runner. There was no explanation really, even though the students were curious and gossiping about what could have caused it. Then it was homeward bound with a reminder that they weren't allowed to do magic outside of school, which was a letdown for Dudley who'd planned on using some of what he learned to help out his mum. On the bright side at least he'd gotten Dean, Hermione, and Justin's phone numbers to call them for possible meet ups over the summer. As for Neville and Ron the prat, they said they'd said an owl to keep in touch with him.

 **A.N.** STILL UNBETAED. I realized when I was going over my stories and also a few reviewers of Torn Decicions had pointed out some holes in my story that I had left out. Some I plan on addressing but others still won't come about until around chapter 20 or so when third year takes place. I can only blame my youth and being caught up in the excitement of being so new to this that I left those big gaping holes. I facepalmed and headdesked quite a bit.

Apologies if it seems rushed and rather short. I wanted to get this out before the weekend. I will be busy what with it being Sabbath and then during Passover, so I likely won't be able to update again for a week or so. My updates will never come on a weekend.

Side note, I think if I'm correct that public schools in the UK are actually like private schools in the US. And that state schools in the UK are like the US's public schools. And secondary school is like the US's middle to high school.


	3. Chapter 2

**Title:** Torn Decisions

 **Story Rating:** T

 **Chapter Rating:** T (to be safe)

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

There was only a mass of dazed confusion and chaos swimming about the child's mind as he stared uncomprehendingly at his surroundings. There had been horror and panic and then overwhelming fear before there was a sensation of being squeezed, his chest aching from lack of air. All in all as soon as it stopped and he fell to the ground, he retched horribly, body heaving. His mind was awash in confusing images, sounds, and colors that were hard to grasp, his breathing went erratic and his chest began to hurt again, eyes widening as he began to panic. Was he dying? Was this what death felt like? Why did he feel so heavy? So wrapped up in trying to figure out what was going on especially trying to reacquaint himself with breathing, he didn't notice that he wasn't alone nor exactly where he was other than a vague sense it wasn't where he'd been before. Something was also very, very wrong. It was too silent and it something _felt_ wrong. Why was he alone? He was _never_ alone. Blinking his eyes he could blearily make out a form as if glimpsed through a heat haze but solidifying the more he looked at it.

A rock clipped him in the ear which stung and caused him not only to be distracted but to cry out, hand automatically going up to touch the injury. Pulling his hand away he saw blood on his fingers unable to understand what had just happened. Something in his mind pulled from dark mire came up with a strange word but his concentration failed as yet another rock hit him in the back causing the boy to lurch forward slightly. The sound of laughter brought him back to attention from the malicious sound. Looking up, as he rightened himself he saw a few older boys that had rocks in their hands, grinning cruelly at him. There had been shock at first when they saw that he already had sustained a head injury and was bleeding freely _before_ they had thrown the first rock. It didn't deter the leader who after a quick glance around to be sure no adults were about wanted to know, "How'd you do that?"

"D-do, what?" Honestly confused and having no idea what was going on, tried to keep everything in his head from overwhelming him, focusing on the threat in front of him and excluding all else.

"How'd you just show up like that?" The little group of delinquents in the making had been hanging around the park not wanting to go home quite yet when they'd heard a car backfire. Or so they had thought, but then saw the twerp being sick on the grass. Not only was he ralphing but he was doing it in their spot! That was what made the leader throw the first rock. The second was because it seemed like the kid wasn't going to acknowledge them. His buddy suggested that maybe the kid wasn't 'all there'. It certainly looked that way. And now the kid was playing dumb.

"I-I, don't…"

Getting upset, the leader threw another rock, this time not so gently, putting actual force behind it. The boy raised his arms up to block his face and felt the impact on his forearm making him grunt. He flinched expecting another but looked up in surprise when it seemed to stop on its own accord before making contact. What had happened was that the shimmering form that had slowly been solidifying stood in front of him and caught the thrown rock. He wasn't sure if the boy in front of him was Harry, or Brother, or if _he_ was Harry or Brother, yet neither name seemed to fit while they both did. The only thing that was clear was that the group of ruffians weren't able to see him and thought that their victim had stopped the rock all by himself. There was anger etched on the invisible boy's face and the only one who could see him could feel something welling up inside of him as well. Both wanted to hurt the one who had hurt him. Make them feel what they felt, the sting of the rocks hitting exposed flesh. Next thing the boy knew was the very same rocks they had thrown at him earlier had flown out and hit the leader of the pack of boys causing him to drop to the ground curled up in a ball moaning while his 'friends' ran.

Exhausted, the boy dropped onto his butt feeling drained. Head aching head throbbed and at some point he realized he'd shut one of his eyes to keep blood out. "You're still bleeding," the invisible boy stated worrying his lip, eyes full of concern and fear. Using a sleeve to wipe at the cut on his forehead, he blinked then jumped nearly dislocating his neck to face the new threat when a voice stated, "That was impressive."

Both boys' eyes darted around trying to locate the owner of the voice knowing it didn't come from the down older boy who at the sound of the voice quickly got to his feet and hobbled away as quick as he could away from the bizarre happenings. Apparently the man, the boys were sure the voice belonged to a man, laughed; either at the whimpering boy who left the park or from the fact that the boys couldn't see him and found it amusing at their trying to locate him. "Sorry for startling you. Are you alright?"

"Um…" The child blinked looking this way and that not liking that he couldn't locate who was speaking. Was he losing his mind? That was the only explanation for why he could hear a voice that didn't belong to a body. Then again he saw a boy no one else could. As if he knew what was going around in his head the man stated, "You're not crazy. Nor am I reading your thoughts. It's rather obvious what you are thinking."

"A-a-are you a ghost?" he stuttered. He'd only really heard about ghosts once and that was from the telly before Uncle Vernon had changed the channel disgusted. But you were supposed to be able to sort of see them weren't you?

"No, I assure you that I am very much alive."

"How'er you invisible?" Despite being afraid, he was also curious. Both the boys were. It was one of their shared traits. When the man had replied with a simple one word answer, the child scoffed. He repeated the word a bit skeptically, "Magic?"

"Oh, yes." There was a pause before it continued. "Do you really not know?" There was a pleased tone for some reason which raised both boys' hackles. The man quickly apologized even though it didn't seem as if he was sorry at all, barely able to conceal his excitement. "Sorry, but it is so rare to run into someone so naïve to their abilities yet can work it with instinct as you did. You, like me are a wizard. You either have a magical parents or had a magical ancestor somewhere in your line to be able to do what you do."

The boy's eyes flashed, jaw clenching as he glared at the ground. So, his parents had been wizards too. But, if they'd been wizards how could they be killed by a stinking car crash? There was no way his parents would have died that way if they were magical. So maybe it wasn't his parents, but maybe his grandparents. A car crash couldn't hurt wizards, yet Dudley had been magic…and he was gone. Taken in a crash like his parents. But he was a kid and his parents weren't. It made his head hurt and he pressed his sodden sleeve against the wound on his head.

Once again the man didn't sound as if he was apologetic at all, but was curious when he asked, "Have I said something to offend you?"

The boy shook his head then felt like he would be sick as the world tilted and spun. Shaking his head had been a mistake, one he wouldn't repeat. Thinking about what the man said, he resoled to not let something as pitiful as a car crash kill him. He would do what his parents hadn't and become strong enough to be able to stop a wreck from happening. His voice came out softly but even he could he hear the accusatory tone when he stated, "My mum and dad are dead."

There was no sympathy, no 'I'm sorry' or anything else one usually got when uttering that statement. There was a bit of silent then when he heard the man speak again his voice was eager now. "Do you want to learn? I can teach you if you want."

Looking at each other they threw the question silently to each other debating the merits of what was said being the truth. Hazy thoughts and memories surfaced that caused pain to well up in his chest and stomach. Magic, that was what they could do? And the man was willing to teach them?

There was some impatience in the tone now. "My offer is only good for three minutes and you must come with me if you want to learn."

The boy bit his lip and looked to the invisible boy whose expression had a bit of misgiving on it as well as yearning. If they went with this man, they wouldn't be helpless anymore. And they didn't have anywhere to go. The Dursleys had been his only family and if they hadn't taken him in out of the goodness of their hearts, he would have been dumped in an orphanage and who knows where he would have been! There could be no stalling to think, they had to decide now whether to go with him or not. What they didn't know was the reason the man had given the short time limit was twofold. One would be to push the boy so he wouldn't have much time to think about it but also more importantly because that was how long it would take for the Ministry of Magic to locate his magical signature. And since magic had been performed in this area it would register as underage magic. While the child didn't have a wand and underage magic wasn't really followed up on, to suss out the reason for the magical occurrence. A lapse that the man wanted to take advantage of. The overlapping magic in the vicinity might confuse his trackers.

"Okay," the boy finally stated causing the man to smile victoriously under his invisibility cloak. Reaching out and ignoring the boy's wide eyes at the hand suddenly appearing, he grabbed the child's shoulder and Disapperated. When they Apparated a safe distance away, he shoved the hood of the cloak down ignoring the boy's pasty face and sick expression. Removing the cloak completely, the man quickly took out his wand and cast a few charms and spells so they would attract less attention. The boy's gasp of amazement was ignored when he healed the gash on his head and cleaned him of blood in a few swipes of his wand. Stowing his wand away, he grabbed the boy's hand and had the walk quickly out of the side street to the main road. While the boy had to practically run to keep up before the man stopped and grabbed him up and carried him awkwardly.

"Excuse me." He was hesitant to speak up since he wasn't supposed to ask questions, but this one was bugging him and he wanted to know. "Why _me_?"

"Why not?" the man returned as he continued down the street and hailed a taxi. He motioned for the boy to be quiet which he did since he didn't feel like talking at the moment anyway. They switched taxi's a few times, walked some, and the man had him drink something that tasted awful but put him to sleep.

When he awoke it was somewhere again, he'd never been nor seen before. Blinking, he pushed at the covers marveling at their texture. Looking around he saw that the other boy was also awake and staring about in awe. The room wasn't anything fancy, but it was bigger and nicer than his cupboard room. Listening he got up and went to the window and stared with wide eyes. What he saw outside was a site he'd only glimpsed in the morning paper and on the telly. There was a beach with crowds of people all talking and laughing and going about their daily life. The door opened him causing him to jump and the man to give him an assessing look.

"What's your name, child?" Something in the way the man looked at him and in his tone gave voice that he _knew_ what it was, but was curious as to how the boy would reply.

"I-" he paused. Who was he? Was he Harry, Brother, or there was another name that was out of reach that he couldn't get to and made his head throb. While his mind was a bit clearer than earlier, it was still a bit woolly. Conflicted and unsure, he didn't see the man's predatory smirk and how his eyes lit up at being unable to successfully say who he was. He might not have, but the invisible boy did and his own eyes narrowed at the look. To the only one who could see him, he stated, "Tell him our name is Hal."

"Hal?" The boy more asked than replied with confusion. The man took it in stride and told him that his name was Markale. The man wanted to know about Hal's family and so the boy hesitantly told him and how old he was. Markale seemed to think this over before propositioning about the child becoming his heir. That led to the man having to explain what an heir was and telling the boy that he thought that Hal would do as his heir. That meant that the man would oversee the boy's magical training, and he would not want for food, clothing, or shelter. He was cautioned to think it over carefully because once you gave your word you could not undo it. In the mean time while he thought about it, the boy was given a crash course on how to 'blend in' without using magic and taken down to the pier.

For whatever reasons, the man had brought them to Blackpool and allowed the boy to wonder about and take in the wonders of the entertainment. There were more questions from both sides, mostly from the man quizzing Hal about what he could already do, or what he thought he had done with his magical abilities. In turn he was told about the man's family and that both of his parents had been magical. The reason for his roaming about when he'd found the boy in the park was because he was in search of a new place to live. They talked of magic and about why some people don't want to see or know about magic and yet how others seem to see it without comprehending exactly what it was they were seeing. By the time the boy had tried to sleep his head was full of information that he hadn't known before. It was a lost to take in and he had a fitful rest waking from a nightmare of what he was sure was the car crash but it had faded almost as soon as he woke up. Markale asked if he wanted him to help him forget. That he could help suppress the memories. The boy had nodded and gratefully took the offered help.

There was a bottle in the man's hand that he said was a potion that he wanted Hal to drink. Licking his lips, the boy looked at the liquid inside and then at the other boy before quaffing it down. His eyes glazed over not seeing the man pull his wand, aim it between the boy's eyes and mutter, "Obliviate." Reholstering his wand he stated, "From this day forward you are my heir."

* * *

 **A.N.** I will be honest to say I waffled back and forth unsure what to put next, either this chapter which I had placed in Torn Decicions much later as a flash back of sorts in chapter 20, or the one I had used previously just altered and fixed up which is now going to be chapter 3. I kinda went with this to not confuse people as much? Hmmm.

And before anyone tries to condemn me for the bit with the rocks and such, kids _can_ be that cruel. I was a stupid lil twerp in elementary school. I know I had to be either in kindergarten, 1st or 3rd grade when I lobbed a rock at a 5th grader. I don't recall why or what made me do it. Also I know from personal experience that head wounds bleed profusely even if it's not serious.


	4. Chapter 3

**A.N.** Cassian is pronounced Cash-un. So naturally Cass would be Cash. I'll either use references from the books or movies depending on which I prefer at the time. Okie dokie, that's all for this chapter I believe.

 **Title:** Torn Decisions

 **Story Rating:** T

 **Chapter Rating:** K+

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

 **Chapter Three**

Stepping into the shop, Severus inhaled the aroma of herbs, candles, incense, and bottled sprays. It was a smell of familiarity associated with memories; some bittersweet. Walking amongst the shelves he took his time picking out the items he wanted and placing them in his basket. He knew where everything was having visited this particular store frequently and for many years. If any of his colleagues could see him they wouldn't believe it. As a Slytherin and former Death Eater, he was viewed as a muggle hater. Yes, at one point in time he _had_ hated them. His muggle father was to blame for that. Due to that man he knew firsthand how cruel human beings could be _without_ magic. He was one of the reasons Severus had craved power the Dark Lord promised his followers. It had been obvious while he'd been at school that the so called _light_ side wouldn't get him anywhere with the magical world licking the boots of people like Potter and Black.

There were places in the muggle world that Severus found comfort and contentment in however. This little shop on the corner of a friendly shopping square was just such a place. What was interesting about this shop was that it was a front of sorts. While it sold perfectly harmless herbs, teas, pastes, and 'potions' for muggles that were into the 'new age' trend, it also sold those same items of a wizarding nature that you couldn't find in a regular apothecary. The owner of course had _notice me not_ and _muggle repelling_ charms on those that weren't intended for the general public. The man had to jump through a lot of hoops to have a business license and property approved for such a blatant location, but then again, they had been hiding out in the open for a very long time with properties such as the Leaky Cauldron, King's Cross, and other places. For some like Severus who didn't have the time to go to Diagon Alley, places like this were easier and a must have.

Placing small vials of eucalyptus oil and lavender next to a clump of skullcap, Severus was about to head to the counter where the clerk was filling up a haversack with brown paper wrapped packages. Seeing the Potions Master he nodded a greeting with a smile before saying, "Be right with you."

"Oi, Bert," a young voice called from behind a book rack. It caught one's attention not from its rude and incredulous tone, but by the cadence and inflection on some of the words. There wasn't one specific accent but seeming a blend of them to make the voice unique. "Do people actually _buy_ this garbage?"

Beltram or Bert as he preferred to be called was the proprietor of the shop and was usually good natured. The man had a frown as he looked up from placing the last parcel in the bag and addressed the owner of the voice by the books. "Don't hurt my merchandise, Cass."

"I won't." A hand encased in fingerless gloves put a book with the title _How to get in Touch with Your Inner Wizard_ back where he'd taken it from. Stepping out from behind the books and ignoring Severus, the youth went up to the check out. The boy's eyes were hidden behind a pair of smoke tinted sunglasses but a rueful smile played on the corner of the boy's mouth as he muttered, "One time! You'd think you'd let it go by now."

Bert gave a shake of his head with a snort of laughter. "You frightened the poor woman out of her wits and cost me a jar of rare cordyceps."

Severus didn't hear the muttered reply but the boy seemed hardly repentant of the fact that he'd nearly caused someone a heart attack or lost the man business. What did Bert expect from one that dressed like a muggle delinquent? Although, at least this one didn't have baggy jeans as some he'd seen running about. Though what possessed children to wear ball caps backwards he would never know.

"You sure you want 'em all today?" Bert asked handing the bag over to the boy who was digging out some notes out of the pocket of his dark half pant jeans. Nodding, Cass took the strap from Bert after handing over the money and grunted at the full weight. Giving a wave as he left, the boy called out a, "See you next time." 

At Severus' arched brow, Bert laughed as he began to add up the potion professor's purchases. "Cassian delivers orders for me. The boy is saving up for an instrument."

"He doesn't look like a musician," he stated only to have the other man laugh again. He noted Severus' interest when he mentioned the boy's name. Bert was sure he knew why but wouldn't divulge anything about his customers. That was another reason why people of both wizard and muggle liked to do business with this shop. Besides his generally friendly nature, Bert wasn't one to pry for details or gossip. The only time the man ever said anything was when he thought it needed saying.

"Looks can be deceiving, as you well know. Like my shop. The boy's a good kid. Talented too." As he wrapped the vials in paper to keep them from breaking, Bert continued on despite the fact he knew that Severus really wasn't one for small talk. "Performs on streets corners during the weekends, really good with these puppets. You should go see for yourself." He didn't have to look at the other man meaningfully to get his point across. "The way he manipulates them puppets is what some might describe as magic."

Severus threw a look at him but the other was busy putting the items Severus had purchased into a bag. He didn't say anything else except to wish the Potions Master a good day. A scowl was the man's answering reply as he left the shop and went to his favorite tea shoppe. Ordering a cup of tea with a honey and apple turnover, the man indulged in the fresh air as he sat at an outdoor table in the shade of its umbrella. He was reading the latest 'advancements' on potions while surreptitiously keeping an eye on the square. A flash of orange caught his attention and turning his gaze to where it had caught, his raven brows furrowed as his eyes narrowed. It was that hoodlum boy from Bert's shop; the gaudy orange hooded shirt with its black abstract designs was hideous enough for him to remember it. It was almost as repulsive as if he was declaring himself to be a Chudley Cannons fan. Taking a quick glance up at the sign printed on the building's window the boy was looking in, he saw that it was an antique store.

Recalling the name Bert had used, Severus inwardly snorted. This boy was hardly the one the Minstry was looking for. The name had to be a coincidence. Even the boy's description was all wrong! _This_ child had dark hair while the missing brat had a lighter brown hair color. Ashwood was the son of a pureblood. This boy practically screamed muggle! This one had a healthy weight and pallor despite being slim and likely on the smaller scale for his age range. There would be one way to find out for sure if Bert wasn't pulling his leg which Severus was sure the man wouldn't do. He'd been trying to tip Severus off without being quite so obvious about it. Even having mentioned that what appeared to be offhand comment about the boy scaring the woman customer before had been a nod at Severus. It was likely the occurrence that had gotten the Minsitry's attention. They had picked up Ashwood's magical signature located in this general area. Since then it had been under surveillance day and night by an Auror. The Minister of Magic (Via Dumbledore no doubt), asked if Severus would mind looking into the matter since he was a frequenter of the district and wouldn't seem out of place. Grudgingly, he had agreed since it meant he would be able to have the luxury to shop and enjoy his time away from any and all Hogwarts Staff and the majority of the students.

If the boy _was_ Ashwood, one had to wonder why he would stick around the area so long. It didn't fit with any of the information they had on the child or his parent. Severus watched the boy walk away from the window and head for the other side of the square towards the residential area. Doubting the boy lived there, the man was sure he was just doing his delivery rounds for Bert. With a suitable lead and done with his shopping for the time being, Severus went back home. It wasn't as if the child was going to run if it was Ashwood. Bert told him that the boy was there every weekend. So, the weekend was when Severus came back to see for himself this so called show, it didn't take long for him to locate the boy. There was a crowd gathering not too far away and there was what could only be described as a loud cacophony of obnoxious noise. He supposed some would have called it _music_ but the man thought that the term was stretching it a bit. Scowling in distaste when a girl screeched nearby, Severus moved away from her and edged closer to the front of the crowd. There he saw the boy from Bert's shop, just as the man said he would.

Today's ensemble was just as bad as the other day's. In place of the orange and black hoody was a grey and black one with a silver cross imprinted on it. He still wore the same gloves and sunglasses despite the overcast day his cap was on the ground with some money already in it for tips. With his cursory glance over, Severus actually let himself not be distracted by the boy's bad taste in clothing, instead he watched as the boy moved and was caught up in the performance. As he watched he noticed quite a few things; one of which was the fact that there was no wasted movements, each step was fluid and smooth making it all seem effortlessly. The smile on the child's face helped to sell the fact despite the truth of it being that like any art, the boy was probably concentrating really hard to make it seem that way for the crowd. Two puppets were dancing in sync with him just as gracefully. Once the song ended, both boy and puppets bowed as the crowd applauded and tossed coins and bills into the cap. Another song and once again puppets and puppeteer were in motion to the beat of the music.

Paying more attention to the puppets, Severus's eyes widened minutely and quickly darted to the boy whose hair started to clump together with sweat. Beads of perspiration were on his upper lip and forehead. The more the man watched, the more certain he was that the child was using magic. He was consciously using magic and it wasn't any magic that he had cast. It looked like the boy had cast an animation spell on the puppets. That wasn't an easy spell, using it was difficult enough on its own without the fact the child had cast it wandless. How good it was and the length of the enchantment lasting depended on the strength and skill of the castor. Considering that Cassian was a twelve year old boy who had held it together for over a half hour and it was expertly cast since Severus hadn't sensed any magic, the boy was as Bert put it, 'talented'. None of the crowd saw what Severus had; the muggles all thought that it was a brilliant show. It seemed as if the boy knew his own limits as well, but needed to pull back a bit sooner than he had.

Taking his last bow the boy told thanked them, apologized and still smiling told them that was it for the day. He sat down nearly spent as the crowd dispersed making sounds of both disappointment and excitement. Now that he wasn't using magic and was sitting down to rest, the boy's clammy skin was starting to take on its usual color. Thankfully, the noise halted from the incredibly old boom box giving everyones ears a break.

'Smart boy,' Severus thought as he watched the boy taking small sips from the water bottle he'd pulled from the deep side pockets of his blue half pants. If he'd gulped instead of sipped and taking it slowing the boy would be throwing what he'd drank back up again. Taking notice of the wizard, Cassian only stated, "Bert said you might come 'round."

"He insisted that I come to your puppet show." Severus watched the boy intently as he said his next sentence. "There was mention how what you seem to do with your puppets is magic."

Cassian didn't react at all as he took another swallow from his water bottle. Bert had told him that he'd mentioned his show to a fellow wizard. Usually Bert didn't interfere in people's lives, but seemed to have taken an exception to Cassian. It had started when the man had made a deal with him about this corner of the square to perform on. When he'd first started out in Covington Garden, he'd had to compete with older more experienced performers. He'd had to learn the rules about where people were allowed to go busking and if he trespassed on another's turf. There were neutral areas that he quickly memorized as well. Bert had stated that he'd be allowed to perform near his place in exchange for delivering packages to his clients that couldn't get about. A bonus was that any tips he'd received he was allowed to keep.

When he'd had that bout of 'accidental' magic, he knew that wizards would be popping up sooner or later. There had been a lot of planning before he'd gone and caused a commotion to attract the Ministry. Doing so in Bert's shop he knew the man would tip off someone since technically Cassian was supposed to be registered at a magical institution. He'd noticed the aurors presence and had wondered who would finally approach him.

"Is that so?" He asked the man. Wiping his mouth with the back of one gloved hand, he recapped his bottle of water and shoved it back into his pocket and stood up. "Well, there are all kinds of magic I suppose. If you believe in that sort of stuff."

"You don't?" It was asked skeptically with a raised brow.

Despite his eyes being blocked by a pair of sunglasses, Severus was sure the boy was staring him straight in the eye, lips pursed, a serious expression on his young face making him seem older. Turning away, Cassian bent and picked up his cap not even counting the bills or coins as he shoved the money in a pocket. Donning the cap, he flipped it backwards, but before he had, Severus had gotten a good look at the patch on the front. It was a variation of the Dark Mark and the Jolly Roger, as if they had been merged into one. In place of crossed bones or cutlasses were lightning bolts. It was only his years of being first a spy, then a double agent for Dumbledore that helped him from reacting and betraying any emotion. Never had he'd seen anyone so brazenly display the Dark Mark for all to see. "What a unique patch."

An ebony eyebrow arched over the smoky glasses as a bit of a smile tugged at the corners of the boy's lips. "You think so? I rather like it myself. I did quite a good job, don't you think?" Giving him a sideways look he _innocently_ asked "You interested in one?"

Busy picking up the limp puppets and his boom box he missed the look that was shot at his back. This brat was increasingly getting on his nerves and seemed as if he wasn't as smart as the Ministry thought. The next words out of his mouth proved it as he risked the Potions Master's ire as he asked, "So, which is it? You for or against the club?"

As if he didn't really care what the answer was, the boy began to walk away forcing Severus to either follow or allow the boy to go his way. The man eyed the boy with annoyance before he fell into step with him knowing which 'club' the boy was referring to. If that was his idea of subtlety, he really needed to work on it. Was the boy a Death Eater in the making and if he wasn't then why would he so openly wear the mark? To provoke? Either way, it was an incredibly stupid thing to do. Adding to the irksome brat's faults was that there was something familiar about the boy but Severus couldn't place his finger on why that was. "Does that mean you are 'for' this club?"

The corner of Cassian's lips twitched. "I'm neutral; at the moment."

The two walked towards the underground and it was at the top of the tube station that the boy turned to the Potions Master. "I'm sure Bert's already told you my name. Might I have yours?"

"Severus." Just because he had figured out that the Cassian that Bert mentioned was Cassian Ashwood that the Ministry was after didn't mean he had to tell the brat his surname. It wasn't as if the child would even know who he was had he gotten his whole name. That was why he was surprised at the alertness that came through the boy's body language. Obviously he now had his undivided attention.

"Severus? As in Severus Snape, the Potions Master and teacher at Hogwarts?" There was something in the tone that the man couldn't place.

"How do you know that?" The man's eyes narrowed in suspicion. He was curious as he watched the boy seemed to have a mental debate with himself. When he did speak it was almost as if he was distracted. "Severus isn't that common a name. And Bert told me about the teachers of Hogwarts."

"Of course he would." Severus muttered almost missing the boy's added, "And my father."

"And your father would be?" he asked irritation rising. There was still a chance that the first names were a coincidence. The boy seemed to debate some more before sighing and drawing a worn but sealed envelope from the back pocket and handed it over to the man. Taking it, Severus saw the name ALBUS DUMBLEDORE written in precise neat calligraphy. Looking up, he saw the boy was already heading down the stairs and called back over his shoulder, "I'm sure it would be easier for you than me to get in touch with him."


	5. Chapter 4

**Title:** Torn Decisions

 **Story Rating:** T

 **Chapter Rating:** T (to be safe)

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

 **Chapter Four**

Albus Dumbledore was going over the list of first year students whom would be attending Hogwarts this coming fall term. Those young witches and wizards that were muggleborn, half-bloods who lived with muggle relations or ignorant of their magical background would be met by an alumni to explain and reassure the child and family. This list was had been drawn up by Hogwarts' Deputy Headmistress, now it was the headmaster's turn to inform the alumni which lived closest to the child. There weren't any unusual or surprising names listed as there had been last year when Minerva had come to his office in a state of shock and unbelief. No one had ever expected Dudley Dursley's name to be on a list for magical children. Once at Hogwarts though, the old wizard had been pleased to see that the boy had been sorted into Hufflepuff and enjoying himself. The boy had already become friends with Justin Finch-Fletchley and Dean Thomas when they were in Diagon Alley being introduced to a world they belonged to. Somehow it had slipped both his and Minerva's mind to mention that Petunia Evans's son was coming to Hogwarts to a certain Potions Professor. If the man hadn't known Petunia Evans new surname after she had gotten married, he certainly would have after the accident seven years ago which resulted in the loss of Harry Potter. Severus had not been pleased at all about the circumstances and had become very irate with the headmaster.

Dumbledore looked up from the list, glad for the distraction when his alert chimed to inform him that someone wanted to come through the floo. The flames in his fireplace flared green for a moment then Severus stepped through with his usual dour expression and brushing soot from himself. It was a bit early for the man to be returning which meant that he must have some information. "Ah, Severus. Has the Ministry found anything?"

Instead of answering, the man handed over the letter that had seen better days then sat himself down in the chair opposite Dumbledore. Before he could ask where it came from, Severus told him about his meeting with Bert then taking his advice to go see if this boy was whom he believed to be Ashwood. That had been another tangle last year that had the Ministry in an uproar about how they lost and couldn't even find two wizarding children!

"Cassian Aswhood you say? How did he appear to be?"

Severus narrowed his eyes at his employer noticing that the man had made no move to touch the unopened envelope. Seeing the ever present twinkle in the man's eyes wasn't as brilliant as it usually was made him curious. The headmaster was interested. Usually that didn't bode well for whoever brought themselves to Dumbledore's attention. The old goat always had to meddle. Scowling, Severus replied, "Aside from a lack of appropriate attire, he seemed fine." He then proceeded to recount his meeting and observations about the boy from his animation spell, to the way he had such blatant disregard showing the Dark Mark so casually and their conversation.

Strangely, the information he shared about the boy seemed to relieve the older man, piquing Severus's curiosity further. Seeing his look, Albus leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled in thought, eyes on the envelope on the desk. "You recall the boy's father, I'm sure?"

Severus nodded his head in assent. "Markale Ashwood was sent to Azkaban to suffer the dementors kiss." The man had been a fellow Death Eater under the guise of an Auror in the Ministry's Hit Wizards. When he was unmasked and exposed during a raid, he had injured and killed Death Eaters and Aurors alike in his haste to escape. He'd disappeared seeming to have dropped off the face of the earth. Then about two years ago he resurfaced and had been identified while shopping at an apothecary shop.

"Ah, yes. The Ministry tried to keep it all quiet as much for Cassian's sake as much as Fudge's career. It wouldn't have looked too well for his first year in office." There was a sigh as Dumbledore looked up from the envelope to Severus. "When the Aurors tried to detain Ashwood, he fought back and forced them to kill him. Some months later his mother Lucretia was killed. Cassian was witness to both of their deaths. The boy had been found by the Aurors then taken to St. Mungo's where he stayed for a few months under observation while they tried to help heal his mind from the trauma. He wouldn't speak, move, or show any emotion nor did he eat unless he was told as well as all other necessities. It was as if the boy was an empty shell with nothing inside."

When Dumbledore had first met the Ashwood heir, it had been in the Ministry courtrooms since he was the Supreme Mugwump. They had been gathered to hear the child's testimony of how his father and grandmother had died. The boy had sat in the chair unmoving without expression, his whole being screaming apathy as he spoke devoid of any kind of feeling in his voice only a continuous matter of fact tone. His eyes held no emotion and wouldn't have looked that out of place on a dead animal. There was no trace of what kind of human the boy was before the tragic events in his short life took his family away. It was there that the boy told why Markale had come out of hiding briefly. Apparently the man had been at the apothecary shop because Cassian had fallen rather ill and he was there to get the remedy. For his grandmother all he would say was that she had died from a spell that had gotten out of control.

Since Cassian was an under aged only child with no immediate relatives, the Ministry tried to find any family relations that might take the boy in. Dumbledore had wanted to keep an eye on the damaged child petitioning for temporary guardianship until the Ministry found a permanent one. As the lad was almost of age to start at Hogwarts it wouldn't have hurt to have him around children his own age either. Before any decision could be made about the boy's welfare, Cassian had fled St. Mungo's and disappeared as effortlessly as his father had. There had been no trace of his magical signature or presence detected. It had seemed as if Markale had taught his son how to avoid the Ministry's detection.

"The Aurors couldn't locate Cassian even when his signature had been detected. The boy was always a step ahead, never appearing in the same place more than twice."

"Until recently," Severus stated wondering at the change in pattern as much as the headmaster. Albus pierced him with his eyes, a serious expression on his normally genial face. Almost as if to himself, he queried, "I cannot help but wonder what has happened to have him change his mind." He was sure that part of the answer to that mystery lay within the envelope on his desk.

Giving him a speculative look, Severus stated more than asked, "You're going to see him, aren't you?"

The twinkle appeared in those eyes again as he replied, "Of course."

The notice was sent out to the house where the boy was registered as living that a staff member of an exclusive public secondary school wanted to have an audience with one Cassian Ashwood about attending. The request notice was sent out on Monday, the reply had come back on Tuesday that it was agreeable for the meeting to take place at 3:00pm on Thursday. Dumbledore had at first suggested that Severus come as well since the boy hadn't run from him when he'd been approached by Severus. The Potions Master had refused the invitation liking the reprieve of being around children. Despite what some believed, he didn't live in the castle dungeons during the summer holidays but rather spent his time at his own home in Spinner's End. While it wasn't much and didn't hold many pleasant memories, it _was_ his home.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall counted herself a friend of Albus Dumbledore whom she trusted and admired. She respected him but did not claim to understand many of the things he did. One of which had been leaving the Potter boy with his mother's sister, but that had turned out better than she had thought, until tragedy struck. That had not been Albus's fault however nor the failure to locate the boy after the event. This though, was another thing that she couldn't understand; Dumbledore's agreeing to come talk to the Ashwood boy in person. The woman didn't believe that whole rubbish about the apple not falling from the tree business, at least not completely. Yet, in some cases it was far more than accurate. She was also curious to see how the boy had turned out and his sudden interest to rejoin the magical community. This was why she was currently in her animagus form crouched in the bushes watching the house where Ashwood was living. Minerva had been there most of the morning and early afternoon observing the occupants. Presently as far as she could determine about seven children lived there ranging from about six to seventeen with the two foster parents.

A pair of boys scuffling boys nearly crashed into her bush causing her to bristle and hiss. Distracted, she didn't see the other boy until a bowl of milk was placed in front of her. Following the arm that was attached to the gloved hand, Minerva saw a dark haired boy squatting on heels so he could present the 'treat' to her. "I don't know if a cat does prefer their milk warm or cold, but this bowl's warm."

Having done what he'd intended the boy moved back a little watching her behind a pair of smoky colored sunglasses. After a few tense minutes, a raven brow arched over the frames and the boy sighed seeing that she didn't even so much as edge closer to sniff at the milk. "I guess you don't like milk? Or maybe not _this_ kind? I'd heard that you can't give cat's cow milk though, and we have this kitten milk stuff that Jamie bought for his stray. I'd give you fish, but I don't believe Mrs. Jenkins would appreciate me giving her salmon to you."

Lapsing into silence the boy frowned in thought before pulling a small sketchbook from a side pocket of his half pants. Flipping through the pad he opened to a page and showed it to her. Face and voice serious with no trace of a smile or amusement he asked, "Do you like it?"

It was of McGonagall in her current form. The rendered sketch was of her crouched in the bushes. Apparently he'd known she'd been there for awhile as she had only seen him one briefly as he'd gone out the door to fetch the morning post. Ears twitching, she looked beyond the boy to see a taller boy sneaking up on him. "Hey, Freak!"

Cassian turned but wasn't fast enough to dodge the fist. It hit him hard on the cheek knocking the sunglasses askew but there was no whimper or tear that escaped the boy. Overbalancing from the hit, he fell but sat up and blinked while the teen smirked smugly down at him. Working his mouth, Cassian spat a bit of blood mixed with saliva onto the other boy's shoes and gave a smirk of his own as he sarcastically asked, "What now, Ralph?"

The teen's face turned ugly and he was just reaching down and grabbed the front of Cassian's shirt when an older voice shouted, "Ralph!"

Both boys turned with scowls on their faces to see Billy who was jogging up to them. He was the oldest of them and had actually been adopted by their carers. Giving Ralph a warning look, the seventeen year old stated, "If you don't do your laundry I'm binning the lot and you can explain to your mates why you only have one set of clothes to wear besides your P.E. and school kit."

Ralph glared at him with a sneer. "That your whole reason for coming outside is it?"

"No, but I am serious about tossing your laundry. Mum wants to speak with you."

Sneering again, Ralph pushed his captive back and walked away while Cassian sighed not in the least appreciating the elder teen's so called 'help'. Both boys knew that was the _real_ reason Billy had come over. He'd thought he was helping but Cassian knew Ralph would just corner him somewhere else when Billy wasn't around. Sadly, the teenager had seemed to forget how the rules worked since he'd been adopted by the Jenkins early on before becoming a teenager. Perhaps he lived in his own world or none of the other kids who had come through the Jenkins's had to sort themselves out. Everyone else in the house knew and let them get on with it to establish peace.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," Cassian stated brushing off the other boy's concern and suppressing his irritation; barely.

"You're going to have one heck of a bruise." Billy retrieved the fallen sunglasses and handed them over to their owner who sighed at the bent frames. Cassian shrugged uncaring about the bruise having had worse than Ralph could dish out. At least he hadn't lost his hold on his sketchbook. Flipping it shut he was about to shove it back into his pocket when Billy gestured at it. "Can I see?"

Before he could answer yay or nay, a woman's scream had the boys' heads whip around to stare at the house. Jake, Cassian's roommate, came flying out the back door with a huge grin on his face. Directly on his heels was Mrs. Jenkins, their carer. She was brandishing a broom threateningly and yelling at the boy before angrily returning inside. Jake collapsed next to Cassian ignoring Billy altogether giving his roommate a mischievous smile when the boy had raised an eyebrow to express his curiosity at what he'd done. Billy left the two of them to go see for himself what Jake had done to upset the woman since Jake had started to laugh unable to tell his tale. When he'd calmed down, he pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it at Cassian who caught it automatically, his reflexes quicker than his mind. What he held appeared to be a dead mouse but was in fact a fake. It was hard to tell the difference unless you really looked at it.

"I put it on the counter next to the tea. You should have seen her expression!" The boy cracked up again no doubt recalling the woman's expression when she'd seen the boy's toy. Cassin shook his head then tossed the toy into Jake's lap saying, "Be right back," and disappearing into the house to reemerge five minutes later with a ball cap clutched in his hand and a pencil behind his ear. His mouth twitched to see Jake trying to get the cat who had surprisingly not bolted when Ralph had assaulted him, to play with the toy mouse. The cat hadn't moved an inch as if it was trying to imitate a statue. Spotting him, Jake put the mouse away and stood grinning. "Whelp, let's go!"

As they headed for the street Cassian casually remarked, "There's something funny about that cat."

McGonagall watched them leave going over everything she'd witnessed. When the boy had his sunglasses knocked off to expose his eyes, she could understand why the other boy cruelly taunted him. The boy's pupils had been ringed with amber but it wasn't uniform, but spiked out into the green iris causing the color to look a sickly green. Her attention was drawn to the bully Ralph who had exited the house two minutes after the boys had gone down the street. Not long after there was the unmistakable sound of an Apparating wizard. Dumbledore looked right at the bush she was hiding in and if a cat could blush, she would have. Deciding it was time to go, she did so but vowed to speak to the man about what she'd seen that day.

Dumbledore looked up at the two story home that was in pretty good condition for how old it was. Hanging in a corner of the porch was a homemade wind chime that had likely been a school project. A brass knocker shaped like the sun was directly in the middle of the door. Rapping the knocker twice, he waited. It amused him that Minerva had come to spy on the house knowing she'd want to talk to him about her observations and he wanted to hear what she had seen as well.

The door was opened by a freckled faced boy of six with wide brown eyes. The child's mouth gaped then finally formed words. "Are you a wizard?"

Amused as well as wondering how he stood out since he was wearing the suit he wore when he went to greet muggleborns and their families. Blue eyes twinkling merrily and smiling down at the boy he asked, "Why? Do I look like one?"

"Yup. You look like the wizard Cass drawed for me." The boy answered nodding enthusiastically. A woman's voice called from behind the boy further in the house, "Alex, who are you talking to?"

"A wizard!" came the exited shout.

"What?" A woman with ash blond hair and medium height came to the doorway behind the boy. She looked the man over curiously before extending her hand seeming to know he was official. "Hello, I'm Janice Jenkins."

"Albus Dumbledore," he returned leaving off the rest seeing no need to overwhelm her. "I sent a letter-"

"Oh!" Her eyes lit up in recognition of the name. "Come in, please."

She stepped aside holding the door open and a hand to the boy's shoulder maneuvered him out of the man's path. "Sorry about Alex, he's quite into fantasy and another of our boys indulges him."

"That's quite alright." He replied with a smile as she told the other boy to go finish folding laundry with Jamie. Smiling, she'd asked if he'd like a cup of tea which he agreed to and they made their way to the kitchen. The lounge where the children were folding laundry was cozy and even just going through it to the kitchen; Dumbledore could see framed photographs on the walls of different children that had likely been through this house. Despite being home to many children, the kitchen was tidy save for the fridge which was entirely covered in childish drawings and colorings from color books.

"Gingersnaps?" Mrs. Jenkins offered opening a tin and setting it on the table. She was unsure what to say and Dumbledore gave her an understanding look and politely asked her to tell him a bit about Cassian.

"Well, he's a very smart lad, but I guess it comes from him reading all the time doesn't it?" The smile on the woman's face wasn't strained or forced which gave Dumbledore hope. Part of going to a prospective student's home was to not only interact with the child in question but speak with those that were caring for said child. Mrs. Jenkins's hands cradled her tea cup saying, "I guess that's what drew him to your attention? He don't really play sport, so I knew it couldn't have been that when you said you wanted to see him."

She stopped and gave the man a look as if debating what to say or if she should say anything. It gave him a momentary sense of déjà vu but unlike before, this woman's expression was one of hope and sadness. "You said he's guaranteed a place at your school? Will there be other children like Cassian there? Kids that he can make friends with and be happy?"

"I assure you that if he wishes to attend, Cassian has a place at the school. There are many children like him that have found friends, happiness, and call it home."

Nodding in relief she smiled. "Good, he needs that." As if a weight had been lifted she reiterated that the boy was smart, that he was kind and understanding towards the younger children, that he was in fact the one that helped fuel Alex's interest into the fantasy. She'd also stated that he was the politest boy she'd ever fostered and the only one that did his chores without being asked, without complaint, and on time. About how she'd had many children both good and bad come through her house, some were loners and some not, but Cassian was the only one who seemed to genuinely not care if he had friends or not. "He prefers his own company over others, course it could be because he prefers his books."

Again there was a pause and an expression of how much she should tell the man who was offering one of her kids a chance to go to a prestigious school. Biting her lip, she blurted out, "I should tell you now before you meet him, that Cassian's a bit…odd."

Gently Dumbledore asked, "In what way?"

"Well, I've yet to see him play like a normal child would. Sure, he's more into books and he helps out the little ones when they need a hand at something, but I've never seen him joke about like my other boys. Just this morning that prankster, Jake, put out a fake mouse for a laugh, knowing it make me scream. I can't abide mice." Shaking her head at the boy who was continually trying to get her hair to turn grey and who had somehow gotten to her most reclusive boys. Squaring her shoulders she looked him in the eye determinedly. "If you don't know, you'll likely find out that the boy has a juvenile record. It isn't his fault though!"

Dumbledore didn't let his surprise show but allowed Mrs. Jenkins continue. "It's just children like him have learned that they can't rely on adults, can they? Always disappointing them and letting them down. Never had a real role model to follow, most of my boys don't. Wonder that he isn't like some of my others. He was picked up by the police because of a scuffle that got out of hand. He isn't normally like that, it's just that sometimes he zones out and the others, they pick on him because of that."

"I see," he replied quietly. He reassured her that none of her information had changed his mind and that he would like to speak with Cassian. The two adults went upstairs to the 'boys' floor' as it was dubbed since only the kids' bedrooms were up there. Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins's room was on the first floor. Halfway up the staircase they heard someone shout, "Woman on the floor!" followed by a cry of "Ah!" hurried footsteps and a slammed door. Billy grinned as he saw his mother and the school representative with her and explained, "Frankie just got out of the shower."

"Thank you, Billy." The teen nodded then went past them down the stairs. Albus saw four bedroom doors with small chalkboards hanging on them. Each board had the names of the occupants and their chores on it. Knocking on the first door on the left, she opened it after there hadn't been any response and frowned. "This is his room, but he's not here. That's strange. He knew he had an interview with you today."

"May I?" He asked indicating the room. She nodded and opened the door further for him to look around. There was a bed on either side of the room. The left half was plastered with posters and typically messy. The bed was rumpled and unmade, bureau drawers left partially open, comic books littered that whole half. The other side of the room was its polar opposite. The wall was bare of any decoration, the bed was neat and tidy without so much as a wrinkle, no article of clothing was found under the bed or stray gum wrapper. In fact, it was devoid of any feeling, looking as if it was waiting to be occupied. On their way out, he checked the board on the door and saw that indeed there were two boys that lived in that room and that one of them was Cassian.

Stopping a boy about ten who was coming up the stairs with a basket of folded laundry with Alex, Mrs. Jenkins asked, "Jamie, have you Alex seen Cassian?"

Jamie nodded with wide eyes. "Yeah, he's in the office and so is Ralph and Jake."

"Thank you." The adults went back downstairs while the two boys continued on with their chore. Mrs. Jenkins showed Dumbledore to her husband's study. Inside sat the three boys mentioned being reamed out by her husband and a woman in a business suit who looked as if this was old hat. The eldest teen Ralph, looked as if he'd lost a fistfight and was sullen, angry, there was fear there too in his eyes not looking towards the other two boys at all. The second a year younger, sat slumped in his chair, eyes on a spot on the wall, arms crossed and with a frown on his face. The last, Cassian, sat calmly as if he weren't being yelled at or reprimanded. They all looked towards the door at the knock interrupting them.

"Excuse me, dear. This is Mr. Dumbledore from the school up north. He had-"

Mr. Jenkins nodded and cut her off by motion to the youngest boy. "Go to your interview, but we're not done, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir." Cassian stood and went to where the other two adults were by the door. Mrs. Jenkins smiled down at him encouragingly but then frown seeing the already forming bruise on face from Ralph's blow earlier. "We're going to the back garden," the boy informed the woman and led Dumbledore outside to a garden bench that was positioned under a tree. Sitting, the boy stated matter of factly, "So, the Potions Master gave you the letter."

"He did. Though you have explained yourself well, I still have a few questions I'd like to ask you."

Cassian sighed replying, "I thought as much." Then almost as an afterthought he asked, "Am I in trouble?"

"Not that I am aware." As far as Dumbledore knew, he was speaking the truth. The Ministry couldn't really hold the boy liable for anything other than pointing out that there were security flaws that needed shoring up and looking into at St. Mungo's. Watching Cassian's body language closely and saw no change. Seeing this, the old wizard concluded that either the boy didn't care if he was in trouble or not, or, he already knew the answer before he asked it. The boy leaned against the trunk of the tree and removed a pair of wire rimmed sunglasses. Eyes closed, he hung them from the collar of his t-shirt and pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes. "I see that your eyes are still sensitive to light."

That was one of the things he remembered from the reports. The boy had become violent when there were bright lights near his eyes. Cassian nodded in answer to his question, eyes slowly opening and blinking a few times. "Mostly its florescent lights I can't stand."

"Ah."

The boy's eyes looked over at him and though Dumbledore was dismayed to see they were guarded and closed, he felt hopeful. At least there was _something_ in the boy's eyes even if it was distrust rather than the emptiness from before or that he was afraid he would see. "Cassian, I would like to know why you left St. Mungo's. Surely, you knew the Ministry was looking for any living relatives or willing family to take you in?"

At the word family, the boy's eye twitched and a venomous filled glare was directed at the man. It was there only for a few second before his eyes darted to the right, blinked once, and looked away, face and eyes guarded and closed once more. Dumbledore was curious about the reaction but pressed, "I do need to know the reason, Cassian."

The boy sat silently, uncertainty clearly written on his face after he looked once again to his right. As he pondered, Dumbledore could see there was a lot going on behind the shuttered eyes. His gaze would shoot to the right occasionally which intrigued the man. Seeing to have come to a decision, Cassian looked down at his blue checkered shoes so that his eyes were shadowed and didn't have to look at Dumbledore. Slowly, he confided, "I felt like I was confined…suffocating. I couldn't stand it! I was…lost."

Dumbledore didn't push the boy seeing that he was trying to vocalize his thoughts and state of mind he'd been in while at the wizarding hospital. "I could sort of sense what was going on around me, but it's all blurry and I don't really remember much."

When the boy fell silent and didn't talk anymore, he knew that that was all he was going to get out of the boy at this time. So he tried a different question. "Where did you go, when you left?"

Without looking up from his study of his shoes, he shrugged. "Nowhere really."

"How long have you lived here, with the Jenkins?"

Again there was an indifferent shrug. "Six months or so?"

"And do you like it here?" That question caused Cassian to look up at him, confusion written all over his face. He was genuinely perplexed at the question. It was as if he didn't really understand the question and after a minute he shrugged. "It's a place to stay, and it's better than the streets or detention center."

A pang of sadness erupted in the old man that the boy could speak so casually. Looking at the child, he decided to try asking the boy himself rather than applying at the Ministry again. "Would you prefer to live at Hogwarts? I would be your temporary guardian until the Ministry can find a more permanent solution?" Even before the last word left his mouth, a cold harness entered Cassian's eyes that surprised Dumbledore. Slowly the boy got himself under control and shook his head in the negative. "May I ask why not?"

The boy stood, sunglasses in hand, eyes and voice full of ice, Cassian replied, "I don't like you."

* * *

 **A.N. –** I'm SO embarrassed that I used bowel (your intestines) instead of bowl (the dish you eat out of) *headdesks*

*Fudge became Minister in 1990, a year before Harry and Co. went to Hogwarts (for anyone who was interested and didn't know)


	6. Chapter 5

**Title:** Torn Decisions

 **Story Rating:** T

 **Chapter Rating:** K+

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

 **Chapter Five**

Scowling, Severus Snape waited in the lounge wondering not for the first time why fate seemed to dislike him so much. It seemed to amuse itself by continually disrupting his holidays to make him deal with a brat before term even started. He was sincerely beginning to regret accepting the Ministry's offer to loiter in the muggle shopping square. The feeling was sure to grow, of that he had no doubt. Glancing at the clock and taking note of the time, his frown deepened. For the past twenty minutes he'd been waiting for the brat to show up. One of Severus's pet peeves was people who wasted his time; time that could be better spent on more productive things. For some reason that the man didn't understand, Dumbledore couldn't come to get the boy himself. As for McGonagall, she was busy with her usual preparations for the start of term. Mainly taking the first year muggleborns on a grand tour and keeping the more rambunctious idiotic boys from trying to play swords with their wands.

Just as he was about to hang formality and ascend the stairs to find out what was taking so long, the brat had decided to come down. Taking in his attire, the Potions Master felt his lip curl in disdain. The boy's clothes were in definite need of mending, but with these fads, the man had no idea if they were supposed to be that way or not. The blue jeans were frayed at the bottom with rips in the knees. A black zipped up hoody had the sleeves ripped off to expose the long sleeved green shirt that the boy wore beneath it. At the man's look, Cassian gave one of his own as he gave a defensive, "What?"

There was no reply other than a shake of his head and a brisk pace which Cassian was able to match without complaint. As they walked, the boy donned his usual headgear causing Severus to glance at him stating, "It would be prudent if you didn't wear that anywhere in the magical world."

There was no need for him to clarify what 'that' was. Giving an amused partial smile, Cassian took off his cap, fiddle with the patch, and then put it back on. An acid green alien head had taken the place of the previous one. At the man's expression, Cassian had wanted to laugh but gave him an innocent look back and shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoody both lost in their own thoughts as they walked to catch the underground and caught their tube. Neither spoke to the other and outwardly both looked bored, and Cassian was a bit, but behind his sunglasses he watched the man as a hunter would its prey. Glancing over to his invisible companion he wondered, 'Why do you think the geezer sent the Death Eater?'

Hal was watching the people around them and had frowned at the term geezer. He kind of liked Dumbledore despite Cassian's feelings towards the man. As far as he could tell the old wizard didn't seem to harbor anything but concern for them. The only reason why Cassian had even opened up to the man and told him a bit of how he felt while in St. Mungo's was because Hal had told him to. Or rather, suggested since he couldn't really tell the other boy what to do. Cassian did whatever he wanted and sometimes it coincided with what Hal had suggested he do. Like the name Hal, it was a name that Cassian preferred to call him over Harry. It was pointless to argue over something so trivial like that and the other boy had actually had some good points.

"Maybe because you told him you didn't like him?" Hal had groaned when Cassian had told the man that. Luckily he seemed he hadn't taken offense because he left a message with Mrs. Jenkins that someone would be by to pick Cassian up to take him to get his school things and for him to sit the placement tests. "Severus is the only wizard we've let see us and have talked to in the last year."

Tearing his eyes away from the dour man, Cassian glared at Hal. "You agreed that we should disappear from the wizarding world for a bit!"

Hal sighed, knowing that when the other boy got like this it was best to either distract him or shut up and hope he forgot. Except, Hal knew that Cassian never forgot, and hardly forgave. Since it was boring to watch the professor read his book, he went back to looking at the other people. Cassian stayed silent refusing to talk to him until they were led to the Leaky Cauldron. They wondered what they were doing here since the professor didn't _look_ like he needed a drink to be able to deal with him, but then again, they knew that looks could be deceiving. As they were led straight through the pub to the back, Cassian felt himself tense and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. They were in an alley that had a dead end. Maybe this was an apparition point? When the man pulled out his wand, Hal and Cassian both flinched and the latter instinctively flexed his right wrist which loosed his wand from the holster on his forearm. All that Severus did though was to tap the brick wall to cause an archway to appear.

The boys stared at the bustling activity on the other side of the wall. Stepping through, Cassian felt his mouth go dry and every nerve in his body went on alert as anxiety built. Normally, he didn't mind small crowds since it meant an easy way to escape and blend in with the crowd when he and Jake were running from security guards when they'd nicked something from a shop. It was only when the crowd of people was so thick that it was unavoidable to brush against someone that Cassian felt as if he was suffocating. From the looks of things, Diagon Alley was such a place. Neither boy had ever been here before. The only places they had been in the magical world that he was aware of had been the Ministry and St. Mungo's. Before that they'd had an isolated existence. Occasionally, his father's cousin would come over for the holidays and sometimes Cassian would go to his house.

Letting out a deep breath, he followed the professor to the largest bank he'd ever seen. While Hal was busy gaping at everything around them, Cassian was wondering why the man had stopped and turned to give him a look that brooked no argument after he'd inquired if he'd ever been to the bank and when he'd replied in the negative it caused the man to pinch the bridge of his nose. He'd then explained it was ran by goblins and instructed not to stare since it was considered a challenge. Cassian had rolled his eyes at first because he knew what it was like to have people stare at him and he hated it. Always had and likely always would. It had intrigued him though that staring wasn't considered rude, but as a challenge. He wondered how many wizards knew that and the thought of ignorant people unknowingly challenging a goblin had the corners of his lips twitch.

When Hal's eyes went wide as his head turned that way and this trying to see everything. Inside the bank, Cassian was happy that no else could see or hear Hal because they would have likely gotten into a fix. Hal had pointed to a creature asking, "What are those?"

'Goblins, or weren't you listening to Snape's explination?' Cassian shook his head at Hal's look that stated he'd clearly hadn't or he wouldn't have been asking his question now would he?

Queuing up, he gnawed on his inner cheek as he looked about at the other people in the line, watched as they handed over keys, currency to exchange, or in some cases flashed a ring, Cassian began to wonder. While he knew that his father was from a pureblood family, he had also been a Death Eater. When his father had been found out, he'd had to leave the wizarding world. Had his accounts been frozen? Would they have been reestablished after his father and grandmother's deaths? Was he still considered the Ashwood heir? Would he be able to access those vaults if they still had them here? He straightened up and shoved all those thoughts aside when Hal stated, "The professor is looking."

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Cassian saw that the professor had indeed been gazing at him with a curious look on his face. When he saw that the boy was now aware of his observation, he looked away and then it was their turn at the desk. The goblin asked for his key and that's when Cassian asked if having his ring would act as a key. At the affirmation, the boy reached up and unclasped the necklace he always wore of peridot, topaz, and gold beads on either side of a muggle coin laced on a leather cord. Dangling from it as well had been his father's ring. Removing the ring he set it on the counter while he clasped the necklace and tucked it back under his shirt. The goblin took it and it was confirmed as the Ashwood signet ring which was then returned to the boy who pocketed the ring. They were led to an old mining cart? Snape said he would wait here for the boy which didn't bother Cassian any. Hal loved the insane ride, whooping and laughing at Cassian who clenched the sides as it gathered speed. After an initial once over, Cassian went and perused a few books and added them to his bag with his coins before announcing that he was ready to go. Looking at the cart with resignation he asked the goblin, "I don't suppose there's any other way back up?"

The look he received was one as if asking if he was slow. Sighing, Cassian mumbled, "Thought not."

After the fast and nauseating ride back to the surface, Cassian went to where the professor was waiting and managed to convince him that he didn't need a babysitter and could shop on his own. The man agreed and they parted ways to do their own shopping. It was decided that they would meet at the Leaky Cauldron when they were through. Part of the boy's reasoning to be away from his chaperone was that if he was to break down and show the weakness of having a panic attack, he'd rather not have company or witnesses. Walking leisurely along Diagon Alley, the boys looked around with interest at all the shops and people. Thinking about it, Cassian decided they needed to get a trunk first. If they did that they could toss all their shopping into it. And if they were lucky, they would be able to get the shopkeeper to perform a featherweight charm on it. Hal agreed that that made sense and didn't mind that they would have to double back to get their other items.

While normally Cassian would go and get his books first, he knew that he would spend the longest there and should be his last stop. He supposed he could ask the clerk at the bookshop to use the featherweight charm on those too so his other things didn't get broken from the jostling of the trunk. At the shop that sold the school trunks, he looked them over carefully and while he didn't care what it looked like, Cassian wanted something that would last his time at Hogwarts. That meant something that would stand up to obnoxious children that had grudges and would try and get into his trunk or destroy it. Hal and he argued back and forth silently what made a 'good' trunk and they settled on one that was a deep blueish-green with silver fittings. There two compartments which he liked. The deeper bottom one was obviously for his books and such and the top one for his uniform. Looking around the store, he purchased some dividers as well so he'd be able to separate his compartments to his specific needs. The clerk was more than happy to cast the charm on the trunk for him.

The first place they visited was the second hand robe shop. Inside he found a few good robes that were in very good condition and he was satisfied they would fit, even if he grew a few inches during the school year. Debating over one that was clearly stained from harmless potions, Cassian thought it would be a good one to wear during potions so he wouldn't ruin his other robes. 'Hal, should we get this one too?'

When there wasn't an answer forthcoming, Cassian looked over to see what was drawing his attention. Hal was staring at a plump red headed woman who was talking to a girl about their age with equally red hair. Cassian froze for a moment as a different red headed woman flashed in his mind. A woman with long red hair and eyes so green that they were the second feature you focused on. That was all he could recall of her except for the feeling she gave of warmth, comfort, and protectiveness; feelings he hadn't ever had save with her.

As if sensing his gaze, the woman with the girl looked up and over at him and he quickly looked away. Because of that he missed the sympathetic look Mrs. Weasley gave him as he hastily made his way to the cashier. After a thought, he asked if the clerk could put a temporary sticking charm on them so he could keep them in place and not wrinkled when he placed them in his trunk. She was more than happy to oblige and Cassian thanked her and left. If he got the other cashiers to do the same, nothing would break every time he upended his trunk to carry it, and when he opened it later, nothing would be in disarray.

Cassian ran into the two female Weasleys a few times in other shops like the second hand bookstore. Cassian preferred to go there for some of his school books since those sometimes proved more fruitful. You never knew what people wrote in the margins of their books. The boy literally ran into the woman at the apothecary. The red heads were leaving as he was entering.

"Are you alright, dear?" she asked concerned.

"Yes'm, sorry," he stated embarrassed for being caught up in his thoughts that he wasn't paying attention. Bending down, he helped pick up the woman's packages and apologized again asking if he'd made them break anything. When it was determined he hadn't, both breathed a sigh in relief. Nodding at them, the boy entered the shop and took his time to browse. Eventually along with some extra items, he purchased a second year standard potions kit with double the ingredients. After sticking it in his trunk, they only had two more shops to go. The book shop and the wand shop. While Hal wanted to go for the wand since he knew Cassian would be _ages_ in the book shop, he was talked into waiting because as Cassian pointed out, the wand might take awhile too. While Cassian had been using a wand since he was eight years old, he'd never really had one matched to him. They'd just been wands that had belonged to his deceased relatives. That was if they didn't have a unicorn tail core since those wands seemed to have 'died' as his father put it.

Cassian halted outside the bookstore staring at the large crowd most of which was women. Hal spotted the sign first and pointed. 'Urgh, the old fraud is still in business.' He'd read one of the man's books before wondering why his grandmother who didn't fancy anyone, seemed taken with him. The book was terrible! It talked more about the poncy man than it did about the supposed adventure he had.

"Come on," Hal urged. "I want to see him in person."

Sighing, Cassian followed Hal into crowd and purposely stepped on people's feet that pressed too close to him. Because of the crowd it was slow going but he was able to snatch up all the books on his list that _weren't_ Lockhart's. A few other books that Snape had suggested for supplemental reading were added to his pile. Spotting a free space by a blond haired boy on the stairs, Cassian headed that direction before pausing as their eyes met. Because most of the shops had dim lighting, the boy had taken and stowed his sunglasses in a jeans pocket. There was shock, confusion, and a mix of joy and hurt in the silver-grey eyes when they met Cassian's eyes. Both Hal and Cassian could see the questions bubbling up in the other boy but he seemed to know that now was not the time and kept quiet. They both watched as Lockhart began his speech about being the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, that was all Cassian heard before he felt horror at the news. That was another strike against Dumbledore to allow an idiot like that around impressionable children that would eat up anything that spewed from that man's mouth.

Draco upon spotting the redheaded Weasley family descended the stairs to harass the youngest boy. Cassian watched letting his eyes travel over the family to the bushy haired girl and her very obvious muggle parents, the other set of muggle parents by two boys once of which had dark blond hair. The latter boy seemed familiar and it caused Cassian to frown. Before he could give his query voice to Hal, his eyes were drawn to the commotion of two adult men scuffling one of which to Cassian's shock was Draco's father, Mr. Malfoy. A giant of a man broke them up, but the boy's eyes were glued on the blond haired man hoping that he would not look his way. Thankfully they left without Draco diverting his father's attention to the stairs. Going to the register he stopped and felt his ire riled when he heard what the giant was saying. "…Rotten to the core, the whole family, everyone knows that - no Malfoy's worth listen'ter – bad blood, that's what it is – come on now, let's get outta here."

As the group shuffled out, the red headed girl and the bushy haired one happened to glance back and saw Cassian whose gaze was cold and hard as he glared at the giant. The younger girl shivered while the older frowned before hurrying to catch up with the redheaded family. Hal had placed a restraining hand on Cassian's shoulder not having liked what the man said either, but he at least knew that there was _some_ truth there concerning some members of the Malfoy family. He watched as the white knuckled grip Cassian hand had on the drawstring of the money pouch relax. They quickly got the books paid for and stuck to the trunk and exited the shop. They only had one place left to go which was the one place Hal had been looking forward to going. They were both rather curious to see if Cassian would match up to any of the wands. It had always been interesting to see the wands' reactions to him when he tried to wield them before. His grandmother had despaired while his father just had a calculating look and a smirk when each wand refused to bond with him completely.

At the wand shop both Hal and Cassian looked about with awe and a raised brow respectively. It seemed the man who owned the shop was into theatrics since he appeared and had muttered a "Curious," before he had the boy hold out his wand hand. Even though he was ambidextrous, Cassian usually favored the left so held that one out and didn't fall for asking the man what was curious although he suspected it had something to do with him. He'd felt a very faint tingle as he'd stepped through the threshold. Had the man put some kind of ward to tell him who had come through like they did with the floo network and things like that?

Just as he'd thought, Hal got bored rather quickly and decided to poke about looking at all the different wands while Cassian got sorted. Every now and then though, he'd cackle when an unexpected reaction occurred. Mr. Ollivander who was getting excited that the boy was a difficult customer had just started him on the rarer placed wands such as those that had the wood from acacia and ash trees when one of the reactions was quite different than any other one he'd had before. Oh, he'd had people set fire, knock a bunch of wands loose, have the wands flying about the store, blown the customer off their feet, had things break, some had no reaction at all except for the wand that chose them; but never in his life had he'd been pantsed! Cassian had the grace to blush instead of laugh as he quickly looked away and grabbed another wand. Dropping that one too after he shot confetti out of it, he ignored the one that Ollivander tried to shove in his hand and chose a different one that he felt a pulling towards. It was a wand that had a bit of a loop to it and a round ball near the handle of the wand with a light wood coloring. Picking it up, he felt the warmth and unknowingly smiled as his fingers curled around it. It almost made him feel whole; as if he hadn't known a part of him was missing until he'd the wand had filled that space.

"Pine with Phoenix feather, ten inches, brittle flexibility. Interesting combination," the old man muttered. Cassian didn't care, he had found a wand that had chosen him and was now a part of him rather than just a tool like the one on his right arm was. He paid for the wand, a wand kit (which included a holster and polish), an extra holster, and bid the man a good day. The wand kit went in the trunk while his new wand and holster went on his left forearm. With all his shopping done, he headed back towards the Leaky Cauldron and Professor Snape.

At the Leaky Cauldron Severus read a newspaper as he drank a cup of tea glancing up now and again to check if the boy had back. When they parted ways at the bank, the man had thought about following the brat, but had opted to do his own shopping without having to wait while someone else did theirs as well. It was also pleasant to have some time to himself and to contemplate and reflect on the boy. His casual use of magic to transfigure the patch on his cap and how the boy seemed to try to be reading him as he was the boy when they were on the tube. In the alley, he'd seen the boy tense and had wondered what was going on in his mind. And in the bank, there was something definitely on his mind up until he'd seemed to come to a decision and straightened up. While he'd seen the necklace before when the boy had been dancing, he hadn't given it much thought because he despised unnecessary jewelry.

Glancing up he scowled back at his paper. A group of his least favorite students had entered with their families. While they were saying their goodbyes and clearly surprised to see their potions professor, Cassian entered and after having spotted him, walked over. They both heard and ignored the youngest male Weasley ask, "What do you reckon Snape's doing here?"

"Maybe he wanted Lockhart's autograph too?" Justin asked. The man's eyebrow twitched and he made a note to dock Mr. Finch-Fletchly and Hufflepuff points as soon as he could.

"Do you have everything?" He asked as soon as Cassian was by the table. The boy nodded. "Yes, sir."

They went toward where the group was loitering and passed them to go out the door, the Hogwarts students quickly steeping aside to let their professor through. Hal tugged on Cassian's sleeve stating, "I think we know him!"

'Who?' Cassian turned his head to look where Hal was pointing towards the dark blond haired boy they'd seen in Flourish and Blotts. He frowned trying to remember, but Snape's hand on his shoulder broke his concentration. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Cassian nodded letting the man know he was ready. He'd been told they'd be apparating to Hogsmeade. Hal clung like a leech anyways, shutting his eyes tightly. Feeling the sensation of disapperating, Cassian grimaced shutting his eyes as well. Opening them when they apparated, he felt happy to be able to keep his lunch in his stomach. However, he knew that like Hal, his face was probably green. Hal mumbled, "I hate apparating!"

'Yeah, well portkey and floo travel aren't much better.'

"Says you!"

Severus looked over at the boy's ashy skin and six expression. "Alright?"

"Yes, sir." Once he was sure that he wasn't going to throw up, Cassian fell in step with the man looking about curiously and asked about it.

"Hogsmeade is a magical community. You'll be able to visit it next year."

Severus didn't speak to them again so it left plenty of time for Hal and Cassian to their discussion concerning Hogwarts. Cassin asked Hal what he thought it would be like.

"Dunno. Sounds fun though from what grandma said."

'Mm, but her fun isn't what others would find fun, I think.'

Giving Cassian a look between a glare and a pout he muttered, "You gotta suck the fun out of everything?"

'Only returning the favor.'

Ignoring the huffy and the tongue stuck out at him, Cassian paused near the entrance of the castle. He looked up at the looming structure and echoed Hal's breathed out, "Wow." They'd heard stories and read about it but it did not prepare you to actually being there and seeing it in its entirety. Seeing that Snape was still walking, they hurried to catch up since he did not slow his pace until they were standing in front of a stone gargoyle. Scowling at the stature as if it were mocking him, he quickly spoke the name of the muggle sweet that Dumbledore had chosen this month for the password. "Pixie Stix."

The stairs began to climb and Severus gestured that the boy should go up. He had other things to attend to, so let Dumbledore deal with the brat.

Licking his lips the boys began to climb the stairs and just as he was going to knock on the door, he was told to come in. 'How'd he know?' Cassian mouthed to Hal who shrugged in response and went to open the door. Sighing, Cassian followed. Setting his trunk on the floor by the chair, he removed his cap and set it atop the trunk. Looking around, he took his sunglasses off (he'd put them back on during the trek up to the castle), and hung them from his shirt collar. The lighting wasn't that bad, not irritating his eyes at all. Sitting down in the unoccupied chair, he glanced over at Dumbledore who'd been watching and smiled at him like he had at the Jenkins's. "Would you care for some tea or a lemon drop?"

"I'd like tea, thank you."

The man handed him the cup and leaned back sipping his own. Cassian wrapped his hands around the cup and slowly took a drink letting it sit and pool on his tongue. He identified it as jasmine and honeysuckle, then swallowed it. It was something his father and grandmother had done; teach him to identify the ingredients in whatever he ate or drank. Hal, who didn't eat or drink, wandered around the office looking at but not touching any of the gizmos, doo-dads, and contraptions. Seeing a bird in a cage, he went over and called to Cassian unnecessarily. "Look, he's got a bird."

Hal canted his head to the side, eyes widening when the bird's eyes flowed his movements. "Cassian!"

The tone of Hal's voice had Cassian turning and causing his own eyes to widen. 'It's a phoenix,' he commented setting his tea cup down. Getting up, he joined Hal by the bird. "Beautiful."

Dumbledore smiled at the breathless way the word came out and the undisguised awe on the boy's face. "What do you know about phoenixes?"

"They're reborn from their ashes, make pellets like owls do, but that their pellets have gems sometimes called phoenix flint. They're also powerful symbol in the muggle world."

"Yes, they're as fascinated with phoenixes as we are. As well as the phoenix flint, their tears have curative powers, can carry heavy loads, and make highly faithful pets."

"Can they see things most people don't?"

Dumbledore couldn't see the expression on the boy's face since his back was to him. Cassian's voice was soft, and there was something in the boy's tone that he couldn't place but sounded a bit like hope and yearning. Abruptly, the boy spun around and asked, "Where do I take these tests?"

The written portion of the tests was to take place in Dumbledore's office as were the Transfiguration, Charms and DADA. The Potions practical would be overseen by Professor Snape in the dungeons and the Herbology to take place out in the greenhouse under Professor Sprout once school was under way. After each written portion Cassian was allowed to get up to stretch his legs. Before his practicals began, they took a break with a snack while Dumbledore tried small talk once again which the boy answered back in short sentences or one or two word answers. The boys had nearly laughed when they learned the practical for Charms was to make a pineapple tap dance. That had been loads easier then getting his puppets to move in time with him. Transfiguration was a bit harder. When they were done, the Headmaster informed him, "There is also the matter of which house to place you in."

Cassian blinked, face unreadable. When asked if he knew how the sorting happened he'd shaken his head in the negative. "Father went to Durmstrang and grandmother…well…" Cassian shrugged. The boy had thought about going to Durmstrang or one of the other magical schools, but in order to do what he wanted and needed to, he had to come to Hogwarts.

"The four houses are named after the four founders of Hogwarts." The headmaster then went on to explain each house's founder, their animal, colors, and the characteristics each house was mainly known for. Cassian and Hal listened intently, mulling the information over. While it was customary for the students to be sorted in their first year and it was tradition for them to be clueless as to how it happened, Dumbledore took an exception to Cassian's circumstances and explained the role of the sorting hat. When he heard that it could see inside his head in order to figure out where he would be able to do his best, the boy's eyes went guarded. "If you would prefer, we could do the sorting here in the privacy of my office and at the start of term you may join your housemates at their table."

"May I think about it and give you my answer before I have to return to the Jenkins?"

"You may." Dumbledore agreed and handed the potions quiz to the boy to give to Professor Snape. A map was also given so he wouldn't get lost on his way. In the dungeons he handed the paper over and was told to go to the work station where everything was already set up. They were in the first year potions classroom. The boy went to work while Snape went over the boy's exam paper, the answers causing Severus's brow to crease. Most of the questions were of first and second year level, the rest were questions he'd thrown in to see if the boy knew them. Cassian's knowledge of potions was erratic. There were some basic first year questions that he _should_ know but did not, whereas some fourth year potions he _shouldn't_ know, he answered correctly. Once done with the test, he kept glancing at the boy between going over his N.E.W.T. sylabis. He noted the boy was methodical as he read the directions on the board then began to arrange the ingredients in an order known only to him. The forgetfulness potion was as good as one would be able to do with the ingredients from the school stores.

When dismissed from the potions classroom, hands in vest pockets, Cassian took his time walking back up to the headmaster's office. Stopping at the base of a statue outside the Great Hall he stared. It was of a wizard holding what looked like Hogwarts in one hand. At his feet were a lion, snake, and badger. The animals of the founders, whom Cassian believed were their animagus forms. Why else would they have animals for each house rather than one animal for their mascot to represent the school as a whole? While he was looking for the eagle he knew had to be there somewhere he pondered, "What do we do?"

Hal thought for a moment. "I don't really want to stand in front of everyone."

"Neither do I, but people are bound to notice an unsorted kid in their house."

"I suppose," Hal conceded.

So, he supposed the question was which would be less awkward in the long run? "If we were sorted privately, there would be rumors and we'd have to keep telling people why weren't here last year. If were to be sorted later with the first years, we could have it all and done with at once."

"Cassian? Are you lost?" Cursing his lapse and glaring at Hal who was supposed to be his look out, the boys turned to see Dumbledore watching Cassian over his half moon spectacles. Swallowing nervously he wondered how long he'd been standing there. How much of his to the man's perspective, one sided conversation did he hear and how much had he spoken aloud?

"No, sir."

"Have you come to a decision then?"

Nodding, he replied, "Yes, sir. If it's all the same, I would like to wait."

The man peered at him for a minute then nodded himself and led him back to the office where he collected his trunk and cap. Surprisingly, it was Dumbledore who took him back to the Jenkins's. Once he was upstairs in his room, he shut and locked the door before he took his new wand and holster off and put those in the trunk as well. Using his old wand he made sure it was locked with more than the muggle padlock he stuck on it.

* * *

 **A.N.** This will be the last update for this month. Will be busy and taking next week off. Hope you guys have fun and I want to thank everyone that has made this story their favorites, following it, and the three awesome people that have reviewed.

Side note : The other boy and muggle parents were Justin Finch-Fletchly and his parents. He and Dudley decided to meet up at Gringotts where they ran into Hermione's parents then the Weasleys.

I couldn't help it! I HAD to pants Ollivander! (and some might say depantsing, but I think that's a north vs south thing like some places saying pop vs soda or soft drink)

I did the wand thing on pottermore using Cassian's info and that was the wand he'd gotten.


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